More Than Stockholm Syndrome
by nothingworld
Summary: SPOILERS IN DESCRIPTION! Post Portal 2. Mute!Chell x Core!Wheatley (Chelley) Rated T because I'm paranoid. Chell feels lost without Wheatley and brings him (and the Space Core) back from the moon. But Chell is haunted by nightmares, and Wheatley experiences emotions he never knew he could feel (not good ones). And then, Wheatley finds something he was never meant to see...
1. 1: The Dark Side of the Moon

**I don't own Valve, Portal 2, or any of the characters.**

**Well, hello there. This is my first fic. It takes place two years after Portal 2 (So it contains spoilers) and is told from both Wheatley's and Chell's point of view. ****I don't like Human!Wheatley (oh, who am I kidding, I HATE Human!Wheatley) or NotMute!Chell very much, so I'm sticking with good old Core!Wheatley x Mute!Chell. **The purpose of this chapter is to explains how Chell has intimate and profound feelings for Wheatley, so it's going to be a bit mushy. Don't worry, the chapters that follow won't be as bad! This chapter will also contain A WHOLE DARN LOT of flashbacks and dreams. I'm not going to tell you when the POVs switch, so you're going to have to figure that out yourself. ;) And I apologize if any of the chapters are too short. Please read and review. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Stock·holm syn·drome

_noun_

1. feelings of trust or affection felt in certain cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Dark Side of the Moon

"Okay... Alright... I've got an idea, but it is bloody dangerous. Here we go..."

I stare confusedly into the darkness. It's pitch black and I have no sense of where I am, since all I can see is the dim glow of Wheatley's blue ocular. All I can do is clutch my portal gun and hope the metal walkway doesn't fall out from underneath me or something equally crazy. Anything could happen here in Aperture. I wait for Wheatley to tell me his "bloody dangerous" idea. But he doesn't tell, he just acts.

"GAAAA!" Wheatley screams as a light flicks on. I jump back, startled by his outburst. There is a bright light coming from the core's optic. But why the scream?

"They told me that if I ever turned this flashlight on, I would DIE!" he exclaims suddenly. "They told me that about everything! I don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they don't want me to use it! It's pointless! Mad!" I laugh to myself as I listen to his rambling, watching him slide along his management rail as he leads me along. I shake my head and smile widely up at the core. I seriously doubt the little guy would suffer such a consequence for simply turning on a light. Wheatley turns back to look at me. The white beam of light from his optic is blinding. It's too bright...

My eyes snap open, but I quickly scrunch them closed again as the morning sunlight burns my eyes. The alarm clock on my bedside table blares loudly, but I ignore it. I don't want to get up today. My blurry eyes can barely pick out the red numbers on the clock. **6:30 A.M. **I continue to ignore the screeching of the clock. I'm just so tired. I roll over so I face away from the clock and tuck the sheets tightly around me. After a while, I somehow manage to fall back into light sleep.

"Holmes vs. Moriarty... Aristotle vs. **MASHY-SPIKE-PLATE!**" Wheatley's voice yells.

**THUD!** goes the deadly plate of spikes against the wall, only inches from my body.

I gasp, startling myself awake. I reach out and my fingers meet the cold metal at the bottom of my bed. I blink several times, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the lighting. Once I can see, I realize I am on the floor. I must have rolled off the bed in my sleep. I've noticed that I move around a lot in my sleep, especially during nightmares. I've had a lot of those lately. And the same core has been the star of the show in all my dreams, whether good or bad. Wheatley.

It seems eerily silent. _Wasn't the alarm on before?_ I think. I glance over at the clock. _7:00 already_?! _I'll be late for work!_ It's only then that I remember that today is Saturday. I must have forgotten to turn off my alarm for the weekend. I stand up and slip on my navy blue bathrobe over my colorful, spotty pajamas. The fuzzy sleeves of the robe warm up my cold arms. I shuffle into the kitchen and fill up a glass of cool water. Then I put a piece of bread in the toaster and sit down at the table to wait, taking a sip of water. I look over at the Companion Cube, which sits in the corner of the room, then start to think about my dreams. I can imagine the little core now, his blue optic shining down on me, his bottom plate pulled up in his version of a smile. His adorable British voice as he says something..

But I quickly snap out of it, remembering Wheatley's other half. The part of him that tried to kill me with a mashy spike plate. I know very well I can't just ignore the fact that he'd _tried to murder me._ And several times. Emotions are always tumbling inside me, one half knowing all the terrible things he'd done to me, but one half knowing he was the only kind of friend I've ever had. I must be insane to even consider him a friend after what he's done to me. _Oh well. I can live with insanity. _A loud _DING!_ from the toaster interrupts my thoughts. Sloppily, I smear jelly on the toasted bread and scarf down my breakfast in less than five minutes. I flip open my silver laptop and open up the journal I've been keeping on Word. There, I describe my dreams. Looking through my past entries, I begin to notice the subject of my writing is always Wheatley, nothing else. I feel so sad, imagining him up there in space... He's probably so tired of floating around aimlessly. I let out a huge yawn. I'm tired too. I collapse on the larger of the two dark gray couches in my living room. I want to sleep, yet I am a little bit afraid of what I might find there. But finally, I let sleep claim me.

I'm lying on my bed. Everything in my room is a soft white instead of the dark colors it usually is. The window is open, and outside I can hear birdsong. A soft breeze blows, rippling the white curtains. I hold Wheatley in my arms. I press my face up against his front and he nuzzles me lovingly with his optic. I lean in and kiss his optic plate. "Oh. That tickles, luv." he says quietly, with a trace of a laugh. "But in a good way. Could you do that again?" I smile and nuzzle his side with my nose and kiss him again. "Oh, that's wonderful." I giggle and spot a blank notepad and pen lying on the beside table. I pick it up along with the pen lying beside it, which is about the only thing black in the room. "What're you doing, luv?" Wheatley asks, trying to get a look at what I'm writing. **I love you, Wheatley. **I scribble quickly, and add a heart for good measure. I show it to him. as I kneel on the bed. Wheatley nuzzles my knee with his faceplate. "You know - You know what?" he says, looking up at me. "I love you too." His bottom shutter is pulled up in a smile. I smile back at him and lean down a place a soft kiss on his top. He wiggles his handles in pleasure and I laugh, grabbing him up in my arms and rubbing my face against his side. My heart is bursting with love and happiness. I hope this never ends.

Yes, even though he had tried to kill me (many times) I still liked him. Loved him, actually. I had fallen in love with the rambling core not long after he had awoken me from cyrosleep. It was hard not to. He was so amusing to listen to as he rambled on about little things of no importance. Endearingly funny as he slid along his management rail, telling me random little stories. A feeling of laughter always bubbled up within me whenever I was around him. I could list everything that I loved about him, but that would take a while.

I wake, a warm and positive feeling spreading through me from head to toe. But then I immediately feel depression. I know very well this could never happen. Or could it? Would Wheatley have realized what he had done was wrong by now? He'd had two years now to think of it. Two years... Alone and cold...

"GRAB ME GRAB ME GRAAAAB ME!"

I remember his desperate voice as the claw knocked him out of my hands, sending him spiraling out into space.

And it made me feel alone too. The lack of Wheatley's presence had torn a gaping hole in my heart. Suddenly, all the sadness from his betrayal and his banishment to space decides to come forward and I begin to cry, which I never do. I had tried to hold it in, but I just can't stand not having him around anymore. Tears flow out of my eyes like a waterfall. I sob, shaking as I do, then give the companion cube an evil glare. It's not a companion. It's just a stupid piece of matter. It was nothing like Wheatley. He was a true companion. I would do anything to have him back. And yes, I do admit I have feelings for him.

I make a sudden decision. I was going to bring him back. Well, maybe. I was going to go find him. And if he still despised me, I'd leave him there, stuck in permanent orbit around the moon for all eternity. I'd be heartbroken, of course. But I was willing to take the chance that he still loathed me. Because if he didn't, the reward would be far greater than the pain I'd feel. _I'm going to do this._ I think. _I'm going to rescue Wheatley. And I know exactly how to do it_. I sniffle and wipe away my tears, then grab the laptop and set it on the table in front of the couch. Then I plop down on the couch. I turn on the TV and look through shows I've recorded from the science channel. Soon I find exactly what I'm looking for: A documentary on NASA space equipment, with a big chunk of the show focusing on the spacesuit. I hit the play button, the open the laptop and start researching the spacesuit. Orders are placed on Amazon and ebay. I'm going to go to the moon. And I'm going to bring him back, if he doesn't still hate me. But I won't give up hope. Never, ever before had I given up on anything, even when I was deep inside Aperture, fighting for my life. And I'm not going to start now. I look through the window up at the moon and make a silent vow to my mechanical friend.

_I'm coming for you, Wheatley. I promise._

* * *

"Space. Space. Cold. Dark." the Space Core rambled miserably on and on. "Earth. Wanna go back to Earth. Wanna go back. Earth."

"I want to go back too." I whisper to myself. "It's a bloody good place, isn't it?" I ask the Space Core, not really expecting a response.

"Earth. Earth." he mumbles longingly. "Wanna go back. Good place. Gooood, goood place." I take that as yes. As we orbit slowly around the moon, I watch the other personality core. His barred yellow optic stays focused on the earth, but glances at me every once in a while. Suddenly, he begins another conversation with his nonexistent father. "Dad, wanna go back to Earth." he complains. "No, son, you are space. Best at space." he replies to himself in a deep voice. "Really? Best at space?" he squeals in his normal, high-pitched voice. "Yes, son. You are always best at space." he says in the same baritone voice as before. "Yaaaaaaay!" the other core screeches, spinning in circles happily. He'll be back to moaning about Earth in a while, but I still envy how easily he cheers himself up. It's been two years now and I still don't feel even a slight trace of happiness.

_Do I even deserve to feel that emotion?_ I wonder. _No. I was tyrant. Terrible. Horrible. Bossy. Monstrous. This punishment isn't half what I deserve. Though I would like a chance to apologize to the girl. What was her name again? Oh, how could I forget her name after all we'd been through? Wait, I remember now. The file said her name was Chell. Nice name, I guess. Better than little old Wheatley, anyway. Back on the subject, uh... All I want is a chance to apologize to Chell. Just a chance. Then you can send me back to space, kill me, send me to android hell... Oh, I don't care. Like I said, all I want is a chance._ I don't even know if she's still alive. It's not out of the question that She killed Chell after being put back in control. I don't even have any hope anymore. And it's not like I'm going find a way to get back to Earth. Humans stopped sending ships up here way back in 2013. Apparently humans thought they'd discovered everything about the moon. Occasionally we'll pass an old, dilapidated satellite, but none of them work anymore. I'm just going to spend all eternity up here, floating silently. Well, it's not always completely quiet. I've never been one to like silence. Filling the void with a voice always made me feel a little less alone. But over these two years, I've grown quieter. The Space Core fills the emptiness with jibberish about Earth and space, but even he is silent sometimes, growing less talkative as time wears on. I don't try to talk when that happens. I simply let silence reign. Maybe it's a way of punishing myself. The silence only reminds me of my situation. Or maybe it's because I have nothing to say. No, that's a lie. I always have more thoughts than I can keep track of. Maybe it's simply because there's no need to say it all out loud when I can simply keep it inside. I don't even practice my apologies out loud anymore. They always sound better in my head. Honestly, I don't know why I stay this quiet. I think the most likely reason is that it's all just part of going insane. Two years stuck drifting here in space with a corrupted core who can only point out the obvious has really taken its toll on me. My thoughts tumble over one another, getting jumbled up until they're just a confused, paranoid mess. I feel as if I don't even know who I am anymore. That's another lie. Of course I know who I am. I'm a liar, for one. I'm a monster, a cheater, a terrible friend, and a robot created to be an idiot. I was dumb enough to betray my only surviving friend, to stab her in the back. I'm foolish. And maybe She was right when She told me I was a moron. Am I a moron? I'm not even sure anymore. I used to know with absolute certainty that everyone who called me a moron was wrong. Now, that fact has come to be the last scrap of self esteem I have left. I'm too tired to hold onto it anymore. So now I let it go, watch it spiral away into the vast blackness of space like a piece of paper fluttering down to Earth. _I am a moron._ Just a worthless, failed project made by the scientists to try to control Her. And I failed, just like everyone else. I don't know why they ever expected anything of me. And putting me in charge of the test subjects in cyrosleep? Biggest mistake they'd ever made. I killed all ten thousand of them with my negligence. I wonder why they didn't just throw me down the incinerator after I'd failed my purpose, I really do wonder why. Probably short on robots to do their jobs for them or something. I was probably the last resort, being the Intelligence Dampening Sphere and all. Well, they're dumber than I am if they thought I'd do a good job! I tuck my handles inward and let a out a mechanical-sounding sigh. I look back at the planet that used to be my home. The edge of the Earth begins to disappear as we orbit around to the dark side of the moon.


	2. 2: Welcome Home

******I don't own Valve, Portal 2, or any of the characters.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Welcome Home

(Three weeks later)

I stand in the living room above the finished suit, staring down at my work. It _looks _okay, but I won't know if it works until I try it. It better work. I had spent nearly all of my savings on the thing, since I had to add thrusters and an oxygen tank. Who knew spacesuits were so expensive? And another thing. Something could go horribly wrong, and it's very possible I could die out there. I shudder. Do I really want to do this? No. But I have to. For Wheatley. I pad back into my room and kneel down by my dresser. I pull out a drawer of clothes, taking it completely out of the dresser. Then I reach into the very back of the drawer, my hands fumbling until they grasp a cold piece of metal. Pulling my hand back, I stare at the golden key in my fingers for a few seconds. Next, I slowly stand up. I walk back to the door that leads to the garage and slip on a pair of loose brown sandals. The door opens with a creaking sound as I step into the garage and flick on the harsh, yellow light. My flip-flops click on the concrete floor as I clop over to the back corner of the garage. There stands a dark green gun cabinet, securely locked. I slide the key into the keyhole, turn, and twist the silver handle. The door of the cabinet swings open and I take in a breath as I see the portal gun for the first time in two years. My clothes from Aperture are stuffed in behind the gun as well. My hands shake as I pick up the portal device. I blow lightly on it and dust particles scatter and become airborne. I sigh at the familiar feeling of the gun in my hands.

I felt that I simply couldn't leave Aperture without the thing. I doubted I could use it out in the real world, but it just felt right to take it with me. Though I didn't realize it until the end, I'd become attached to that thing. The portal gun was the thing that had saved my life time and time again. My only defense. My only friend. I thought that I had more than one friend in this battle against GLaDOS. But I was wrong. How did the alliances change so quickly? My only friend became my enemy, and my enemy became my friend. But the portal gun always stayed on my side. I guess it really was my only friend. Not Wheatley. Not the core I had put every bit of my trust in. No, he betrayed me in the end. But I was better than him, and I wasn't going to leave my ally and protector behind when I left Aperture. No way, no how. I remember how I woke up after Wheatley was banished to space. I listened to GlaDOS's little speech about how I was her best friend and she deleted Caroline and such, but the whole time I was thinking, _Where's my portal gun?_ And when the lift began to move up, I put my palm out as a signal to stop. GLaDOS brought it to a stop with a jolt, nearly throwing me off the thing. I clutched the railing to avoid losing my balance.

"What could you possibly want now?" she hissed at me. "I thought you wanted your freedom." In response, I pretended as if I was holding an invisible portal gun. I pretended to shoot portals onto the panels around GLaDOS. "Oh, you want your precious portal gun." A claw swung into the room, my portal gun clasped between its two pincers. "Well, take it. Just go." GLaDOS said with a tiny twinge of anger in her voice, probably not wanting to give me the gun so easily. The claw dropped the gun, and I caught it in my arms and smiled slightly as I looked back up at the giant robot. I'm happy to have the portal device back. Suddenly, the lift moved upward again. "It's been fun." I heard her say with a slight laugh. "Don't come back." and those were the last words I ever heard her say. It was a strangely bittersweet feeling, finally leaving her and this entire part of my life behind me. Now, GLaDOS may be gone for good, but Wheatley still haunts my mind. And now I'm bringing back the past, unearthing the part of my life I'd tried so hard to forget. I half-wondered if I was crazy.

I set the gun on top of the cabinet so I can lock it back up, checking the handle to make sure I can't open the door. Then, I grab the gun and head back inside, shutting off the lights as I go. Slipping off my sandals with my feet, I speed-walk to the living room and set the key and gun on the table. As I pick up the folded banner on the table, I think of what a waste of time, money, and hope this plan would be if it failed. Halfheartedly, I hang it up on the wall and stand back to take a look at the colorful words on the banner. I glance out the window at the quickly darkening sky. Grabbing the long coil of rope that is sitting on the floor and the portal gun, I open the front door. I place the portal gun on the front step, then tie the thick rope around one of the pillars by my front door. I make two knots and pull it tight, then let the rope drop out of my hands. After I've picked up the portal gun again, I walk out onto the sidewalk, eyes on the moon. It's full and bright, just like the night Wheatley was sent up there. The bright sphere in the sky bathes the gun and I in moonlight. I crouch down, hands wrapped firmly around the portal device. I watch the moon for a few moments, the early spring air gently blowing, the cool night breeze making goosebumps rise on my skin. Then, I finally take aim and fire an orange portal. I squint to see it hit the lunar surface with a distant flash. Next, I turn and head back inside, taking the rope with me. I pull on my spacesuit, careful to secure every latch and connect my heavy yellow oxygen tank. The tank contains about an hour's worth of air, though I doubt I'll be up there that long. I check to make sure the two smaller coils of rope are attached to my belt and pick up the portal gun. I head downstairs to the basement, where I've removed almost everything so my stuff doesn't go flying out into the black void of space. Well, everything except for the portalable panel I had custom-made. For a very high price. Aperture must have made a heck of a lot of money to buy those things. Moon rocks are expensive! I won't be buying anything nice anytime soon. I take in a breath, mentally prepare myself, and fire a blue portal onto the panel. Quickly, I toss the portal gun aside so it doesn't fly out into space. The vacuum of outer space sucks me quickly out onto the surface of the moon.

* * *

I can see the Earth again! That wonderful, beautiful Earth. I stare at the breathtaking vista. Every time I see the Earth again, I feel slightly comforted. But I long to go back home. I know I don't deserve it, but I would do anything to get back to my home planet. Not that I could do much out here. I've been vibrating a little bit, the robot equivalent of shivering. My internal heaters do the best they can to keep me warm, but even they can't win out over the freezing temperatures of space. My quivering begin to stop as the sun warms me up again. I look down at the surface of the moon, my prison. Suddenly, a bright color pierces the dull gray-whites of the moon's surface. Orange. I open and close my shutters several times to see if it's just my optic malfunctioning. It's not! There really, truly is a splash of orange on the moon. But what is it? I zoom in closer. Could it be... It really is? But why? How?

It's a portal!

A shape suddenly flies out of the portal, spinning wildly, followed by a long rope. The Space Core spots it too.

"Space police!" he yells excitedly. "Space police take me back to Earth?" he then asks more quietly. I ignore him, trying to focus on the figure beneath me. I can tell it's a human now, but I can't get a glimpse of it's face because of the sun's glare. _What sort of astronaut would have access to a portal device? _ I wonder. The human finally stops spinning and flips itself upright. It seems as if it's looking for something, It literally spends five minutes just looking around, using thrusters on its spacesuit to move around. It looks up again. I think it's spotted us, because its body language tells me it's very surprised and excited. It takes awhile for it to close the distance between us, around fifty feet or so. It begins to approach us. _Okay, what's going on here?_ I think, confused and terrified it might want to harm me. _What does that human want with me?_ It moves purposefully toward me.

"Uh... Hello?" I choke out. After that, I could have sworn I heard it laugh through it's bubble-shaped helmet. It comes close and grabs my handles. I try to twist out of it's grip, frightened. But then it turns around so it's back is to the sun, and I get a glimpse of it's face for the first time. I look closely. It's a woman with long black hair and gray-blue eyes. I would recognize her anywhere. "Chell?!" I exclaim in shock, using her name out loud for the first time. She looks a little taken aback that I know her name, since I've never called her by it before. I'm not quite sure why I didn't, actually. "But wha... But why did you come here?" I ask, both overjoyed and horrified that she is here. She shakes her head at me and smiles. She then glances over at the Space Core, who is screaming like a lunatic. I hadn't even noticed, if I'm honest. I'd learned to tune out his demented ranting after a while.

"Space police spaaaace police!" he screeches, spinning around and around. "Space police come to take me home! Earth! Earth! Space! Earth! Spaaace!" Chell shakes her head and turns back to look at me. She looks at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to say something.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" I ask, growing scared. "I did try to kill you, but, uh... I didn't, so... No harm done, right?" I ask in a hopeful tone. Then I think how mean and stupid that sounded and immediately wish I hadn't said it. She shakes her head, and I see her (but I can't hear her through her helmet) give a sigh. Suddenly, I realize that this is it. This is the chance I've been waiting for. I can finally apologize and make my peace. "Chell... I... I... I'm sorry." I say. "Everything I told you after the core transfer was a lie. And... And you weren't bossy and monstrous... I was." I pause, not sure what to say next. "I can't believe what I did, trying to kill you." I continue, glancing downward and then back up at Chell. "And you don't know how glad I am you stopped me." There is a long pause. Even the Space Core is silent, as if he senses the importance of the situation. His optic flicks back and forth between Chell and I. "All I thought about while I was here in space was how much I wanted to apologize to you. I regret what I did and I am really, truly sorry." I finally finish. Chell blinks rapdily, as if trying to hold back tears. "So..." I ask quietly. "Do you forgive me?" She looks at me, smiles, and pulls me into a tight hug, squishing my optic into the rough fabric of her spacesuit. It was awkward, but I swear if I had a mouth (and ears) I would be smiling from ear to ear. She forgives me. I catch a glimpse of the Space Core, who seems to be smiling, his bottom shutter pulled up.

But then I realize I still don't know why she's here. Forgiveness isn't everything, and she still has the option to harm me. When she lets me go, I decide to ask her. "But what... What are you going to do with me?" I stutter. She just looks at me, then unrolls a coil of rope attached to her belt.

"Space rope!" the Space Core exclaims, blinking in confusion. "Rope in space. Never seen space rope before. Didn't know there was rope in space!" he watches the rope float and twist around. Chell ties the free end of the rope around my top handle.

"What... What are you doing?" I ask, as confused as Space. I don't like where this is going. But the Space Core seems like he finally understands why there is rope in space, which is frustrating to me since I can't figure it out myself.

"Space rope!" he says. "Space sheriffs have have space rope! Space prisoners! Space jail. Space is jail. Earth? Earth? Earth sheriffs? Earth..." he turns to stare longingly at the planet. Chell and I both watch with interest as he begins to have a meltdown. "Earth. Wanna go back. Back to Earth. Earth home. Earth nice. Space is not nice. Space bad. Space not good anymore." he sounds as if he's breathing heavily, his voice choked and desperate. "Space. Space. Space. Space. SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!" he wails, sadness and longing distorting his voice. Chell gives him a sympathetic look and heads toward him, controlling her thrusters from a handle with many buttons and sticks. I am pulled along with a rough, painful jerk from the rope. She pulls a second coil of rope from her belt and ties it around Space's bottom handle. "Taken space prisoner. Want to go to Earth jail. Better than space jail." he mumbles, his voice back to normal again. Chell turns around and heads back toward the orange portal. It's slow going. When we finally get near the portal, she uses her thrusters to push against the force sucking us back into space. My mind is whirling. _Where is she taking us? What is she going to do to me?_ I think frantically. _What if she's taking me back to Aperture? No. No..._ I close my shutters tightly, scared to see where she's taken us. I hear the sound of the portal closing behind us and feel myself hit the ground with a hard, painful _clunk!_ I'm picked back up. She walks up an incline, her feet thudding in the heavy boots. Then, I'm set down on a soft, fluffy surface. "Earth jail!" I hear Space burst out happily, but I refuse to open my eye. Chell gives me a few hard taps, so I open my shutters a tiny slit. I can see something colorful hanging on a wall. I finally open my shutters, curiosity getting the better of me. On the wall is a banner with two bright, simple words on it:

_Welcome Home._


	3. 3: It's Okay to Cry

******I don't own Valve, Portal 2, or any of the characters.**

**I'm not quite sure why I included some things in this chapter. I kind of just went where the story took me. **

**Hopefully, the chapters will be longer from now on.**

**Oh, and thanks for favoriting and following! Already two follows? That's actually really big for me, since it's just my first fic.**

* * *

Chapter 3: It's Okay to Cry

I fumble to undo the latches on my spacesuit. I drop the oxygen tank to the floor, feeling much better without the extra weight on my back. I then peel off the bulky suit and let if fall onto the carpet. The Space Core watches me with interest, but Wheatley is just staring blankly up at the banner. I reach down and gently untie him, the the Space Core.

"Space rope?" Space asks quietly as the rope slides off him. I give a tiny smile at his confusion. When both of them are untied, I grab core in each hand and walk into the living room, setting one down on each side of the couch. I sit in the middle and flip open my laptop, the bright screen flaring to life. I open a blank document on Word and wait for Wheatley's attention. He's still staring blankly ahead, in a state of shock. His optic is wide and unfocused. I give him a few taps, but he remains in his trance. I sigh and start to type anyway.

**Hey, Wheatley. Hey, Space. Welcome to my home. And Space, you're not going to jail.**

"Back to space jail?" Space whimpers in response. I didn't expect this, because I thought he couldn't even read. I let out a short, dry laugh and continue typing.

**You're not going to space jail OR Earth jail. You're free on Earth.** I type.

"Hey. Hey lady. I'm free?" he asks. I hint at a smile and nod at the core before turning back to the computer.

**Yes, you're free. And I have a name. It's Chell.**

"Chell. Space Chell. Space Sheriff Chell." Space says. A trace of a smile flashes across my face for a second. Space understands me, but now I have to get through to Wheatley.

**Wheatley.** I type simply. He stares blankly at the gray wall. **You're probably wondering why I brought you here.** I see his optic flick toward the laptop and quickly scan the screen, but he doesn't say anything. This isn't the chattering Wheatley I remember. I'm really worried. **Wheatley, I forgive you. **I type, hoping that will help.

"I know." he says flatly, so flatly and inexpressively that it masks his British accent. To be honest, I usually hate British accents. I mean, I've got nothing against British people, but their accent just gets on my nerves. But Wheatley's accent I could listen to. I actually loved to listen to his voice. I'm glad he's at least talking now, but it's not the same.

**I brought you back from the moon because... I was lonely.** I admit. **I wanted to hear your voice again. And I wanted to talk with the wonderful personality core who could always make me smile. **I glance sideways at Wheatley as I go on. His attention is finally on what I am typing. **But I didn't know if I should really go rescue you. What if you still hated me? I didn't know. But I took the chance. I did it for you, Wheatley. **Wheatley seems a bit touched by this. He swivels around to face me, and I can see his blue optic focus focus in on my face.

"So... So you're not going to send me back to the facility?" he asks tentatively, his voice starting to gain a little bit of accent and expressiveness.

**No.** I type. **I'm not. I'm giving you a second chance.** Wheatley looks up at me with what seems like a disbelieving expression, but it's hard to tell since he's basically just a robotic eye. He looks completely, utterly lost for words.

"I... I really don't know quite what to say, under the circumstances..." he stutters, his voice almost back to normal. I let a trace of a smile play across my face. That's a little more like the old Wheatley. There is a long pause before he finally asks, "Why would you give me a second chance?" He nervously fidgets. I look at him for a while with an awkward stare. I can't tell him the real reason I brought him home... At least not yet. But I don't want to lie to him either. I finally type a short, 5-word response.

**Because I wanted you back.** I intend to leave it at that, but I feel the need to keep typing. **I wanted you back, even after all you'd done. You were one of the best people - or cores, I guess... I had ever met when you first woke me up. You waited for me, entertained me, and helped me. But then everything changed. I hoped that maybe you could become like that again - the way you were when I first met you. And we could be friends again.**

_Or more than friends._ I think, sighing internally.

Wheatley is silent for a few minutes. He seems lost in thought, his shutters closed, barely moving. He finally opens his single, sky blue eye and looks up at me. "I.. I'd like that, I think." he finally says, stumbling over his words, his voice finally regaining its former glory. I reach out and lightly touch his chassis. He doesn't resist, he just looks up at me with a wide, innocent-looking eye.

* * *

I feel awkward and self-conscious as Chell's fingers brush my outer shell. Her skin is soft and smooth, much better than that bloody rope she tugged me back to Earth with. That was painful. Well, I really shouldn't be complaining. I'm very lucky to be back on the planet. She pulls her hand back and examines her fingertips closely. They are covered in grime. She carefully picks me up by my top handle and sets me down on the table, then walks away. _Where is she going? _I wonder. I glance at the Space Core, who has been unusually silent since we arrived back on the planet. I look into his yellow sunburst optic and he looks into my light blue one.

"Space sheriff." he finally mumbles to break the awkward silence. I let out a tiny laugh but stop when I hear the sound of running water. Chell reappears, a wet cloth in her right hand. She kneels down by the table I'm sitting on and begins to rub the dirt and space debris off my chassis. I can feel the disgusting dirt being scrubbed away. It feels wonderful to be cleaned, but as she washes me a bit of water seeps in between my metal plates and down into my inner wiring.

"**AAAAAAH!**" I screech in pain as a crackle of electricity passes through me.

"Earth!" Space screams in shock.

Chell leans back in surprise at my outburst, nearly tumbling onto her back.

**Are you okay?** she quickly types into the computer, turning the screen to face me.

"I-I-IIII tt-th-think-k-k s-s-sh-hh-o-oo." I answer, vibrating uncontrollably. I quick shaking after around thirty seconds in which all Chell does it look at me with an expression of confusion and worry. "A little water must have - Uh - Got into my circuits there." I say, trying to laugh it off. Chell looks at me worriedly and walks into a different room, coming back with a drying cloth (I forget what humans call those). She carefully finishes scrubbing me with the wet cloth, avoiding getting water inside me. Then she rubs the drying cloth all over me. The rough yet soft surface of the cloth feels wonderful. When she is finished, I feel sparkling clean. I watch her as she goes on to clean Space with small, careful motions.

"Earth wash. Earth water. Water. Space. No water in space. Space. Space." he says as she cleans him. When she is finally done a few minutes later, she sets him back down onto the furniture. She sets me there too.

"What is this, uh... Piece of furniture?" I ask, curious.

She types this as a response: **It's a couch, also called a sofa.** She pauses, looks at me for a second, then continues typing. **I'm going to need to explain a lot of human things to you, aren't I?**

"Well, uh... You could say that." I reply, embarrassed. She smiles at me and lightly pats my top. She begins to give me a lesson on human items, places, and other things through typing. I try to soak it all in so I won't forget, but I have a feeling I'm going to need some reminders. After a while of learning, I feel educated enough. Chell gets up to use the "bathroom", as humans say, then goes into the "kitchen" to prepare a meal. Everything here is so new to me. I had learned a lot about human things at Aperture, but many of the things here are much different. I can see the Space Core is thinking too.

"Kitchen!" he suddenly bursts out. "Space Sheriff Chell's at kitchen!" he concludes triumphantly. Chell nods at Space as she reenters the room holding what she says is a plate.

A plate.

I didn't exactly associate plates with good memories.

I close my optic as I remember being in control. That feeling of power and invincibility... I thought I could do anything! But I was foolish. So foolish. I tried to kill her with a mashy spike plate! Just seeing that one, simple object brings back memories I'd rather forget.

"Holmes vs. Moriarty... Aristotle vs **MASHY-SPIKE-PLATE!**" I yelled, slamming the flat plate tipped with deadly spikes into the wall. Chell struggled in the excursion funnel as if willing it to make go faster, face the picture of panic and fear. She quickly fired a portal at a point below her. The excursion funnel that she is in disappeared and she dropped into the new one formed by the portal she placed. I felt a surge of anger rush through me. "Stay still, please!" I growled at her as I attempted, and again failed, to smash her with the spike plate. "Alright, stop moving!" I snarled at her as rage rose and bubbled inside me. Again, I heard the unsatisfying smash as I missed my target. I tried again, nearly mashing her to bits as the plate hit the wall only inches away. "Ohhh. Almost got you there. Almost got 'ya there!" I mocked her as she jumped out of the funnel and landed on a walkway. She darted away as debris sucked up in the excursion funnel lodged in the wall where she had been only a second ago.

"My emotional processors must be malfunctioning." I mumble to myself. Peering through a slit in my shutters, I see Chell raise an eyebrow. I simply close my shutters again, not wanting to look at her. So many feelings are rushing through me... So many things... But a couple of feelings are stronger than the rest.

First is guilt. Eating at my insides, it makes me feel small and insignificant. And terrible. I'm terrible, I'm horrible. What have I done? It's squeezing me until my insides melt. I just feel terrible and worthless for what I've done to her.

But then comes an emotion that easily trumps guilt.

Sadness.

It crashes over me like a tidal wave. I feel like someone just snapped every part of me in half. I'm just... Crushed. I close my eye tighter and roll over, smushing my faceplate into a sofa cushion. How could I get so emotional by simply seeing a plate? It makes me feel weak and pathetic. If I could cry, I would be sobbing. I tuck my handles in and make strange whiny, sobby, and sniffly noises I never knew I was capable of making.

"What is wrong with me?!" I choke out, my voice processor glitching. I shake, still crying without tears. Chell quickly sets down her plate and sits down on the couch. She snatches me away from the cushion I've been sobbing into and cradles me in her gentle yet strong arms. She holds me close and slowly rocks me in a comforting way. I bury my optic in her shirt, going limp. She softly strokes my chassis.

"Space buddy?" I hear Space whimper worriedly. Chell turns me around so my optic is looking up at her, but I twist away and shove my ocular back into the light lavender fabric of her shirt. I don't want to look at her, or Space, or anyone right now. She gently turns me back to face her again. I'm in a state of so much despair and sobbing so hard now that I don't resist. She looks down at me with deeply concerned eyes, then places a finger over her lips.

"Ssssshhhhhhh." she makes the sound quietly. I think she's telling me to be quiet. I don't think I can be, but as she cradles me my sobs begin to quiet. I stare up at her with a wide eye. In her eyes, I can see an incredible amount of concern and worry. She really does care for me. My crying stops, but I still make sniffling noises. She slowly and carefully reaches around me to type something into the computer.

**What's wrong?** I read. I'm not really sure how to answer that. There are so many things I want to say, but I'm afraid if I do I'll start bawling again. So I just sit there in silence.

**Wheatley?** she types, a worried expression on her face. I don't know where to begin.

"I'm... I'm just so sorry." I begin. "And yes, I do know I've already apologized once. But, uh..." I try to think of what to say next. Whatever. I'll just get right to the point. "Well, you see, when you came came out of the 'kitchen' with that plate..." I shiver as I say the word. "It reminded me of the time I tried to kill you with a mashy spike plate." I admit with a sigh. "Then, my emotional processors went absolutely haywire. About a zillion different feelings flooded through me. Mostly, it was anger, guilt... And - And sadness." I look back up at Chell. "I'm sorry. My emotional processor must be broken." I say, looking away. When I glance back up, I see that Chell is typing away again.

**Nothing's broken, Wheatley.** I read. **That was a normal reaction. You see something that reminds you of the past, and the memories come back. It happens to me all the time.** She changes the font size to letters so tiny I can barely read them, then types a short sentence.

**It's okay to cry.**


	4. 4: Where's the Undelete Button?

**I don't own Valve, Portal 2, or any of the characters.**

**This is the longest chapter yet. Hopefully the chapters that follow will be about the same length or longer.**

**And I can't believe your read this far! Seriously, that's awesome! It's nice to know someone actually finds my story interesting enough to read until the fourth chapter.**

**Chapter 5 is very long, so it's taking me a while to write, sorry about that. But it's a really good one, so hopefully you won't be disappointed! **

**So, thanks again. Here's chapter 4!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Where's the Undelete Button?!

Wheatley stares at the plate as I eat. It's actually kind of creepy. And awkward. He just stares at it, expressionless. Eventually, I finish eating and put the plate in the dishwasher. I can hear Wheatley having a discussion with Space in the other room.

"So... Are you happy to be back on Earth?" he asks. "Y'know, not in space."

"Earth happy place." Space responds in his raspy voice.

"But wouldya... Wouldya ever like to go back?... To space?..." I hear Wheatley ask.

"Space. Space. Wanna go to space. Not too long. Some space. Then back to Earth. Earth." Wheatley chuckles at the other core's response. I stand by the entryway to the living room and listen, not wanting to ruin their moment. It looked like they were bonding a little. From what I could tell, Wheatley used to have a particular disliking for Space.

"I kind of figured that'd be you angle on things." Wheatley says.

"But now. Back from space." Space replies.

"I can't believe we're really back!" Wheatley exclaims excitedly, spinning around on the table's slick, polished stone surface. I see Space's lower shutter creep up his optic. He was smiling.

"Earth buddies?" he asks tentatively, his raspy voice making the question very quiet.

"Sure, mate. Whatever you say." Wheatley answers, rolling his eye. I'm happy to see the bond between these two grow. I don't want to hear Wheatley constantly complaining about the other core. I walk back into the room and set both cores on the couch. Instead of sitting in the middle like I usually do, I sit on the far right, leaving the middle to Wheatley and the rest to Space. I grab the TV remote off the table, turn it on, and flick through the shows I've recorded. I can't find anything good, so I turn on live TV and switch to a comedy. Most of the jokes go right over Wheatley's head, but when he understands I savor the sweet sound of his laughter. Even Space lets out a more robotic-sounding laugh when a joke is made about space. I glance out the window at the sun, which is slowly dipping toward the horizon. The thin, flat clouds high in the sky are painted with beautiful shades of orange, red, pink, and purple, my favorite color. The clouds look like they are glowing. I grab the remote and shut off the TV.

"What did you do that for?" Wheatley asks, sounding more curious than annoyed. My only reply is to grab both cores and walk quickly outside, setting them down on the front step so they face away from the sky. I sit down and turn the cores so that they can see the setting sun.

"Space!" the Space Core yelps happily.

"Would'ya look at that!" Wheatley exclaims excitedly. "It's beautiful! I've never seen so many different colors before!" I nod at him a little sadly. Black, gray and white... Those were some of the only colors he'd ever known. Down in Aperture, the world was practically in black and white. I sigh. I too had spent a good chunk of my life in that facility. I've learned to appreciate anything colorful.

"Sun." Space says, staring up at out home star with a wide yellow eye.

"Yep, that's the sun." Wheatley agrees. All three of us sit in silence for a while, simply taking in the glory of the colorful sunset. The clouds glow like they are on fire, and sunbeams stream down from the sky angelically. It truly is a wonderful scene. The sun is now about to go below the horizon. Pink and red light streaks the underbellies of the clouds, which seem to be breaking up or moving elsewhere. In the distance, the sky fades from orangey-red to a deep, dark blue. When the sun finally disappears, the darkness begins to stealthily creep forward. It seems like the sky is half day and half night. Then the sun's final, dying rays disappear from view and the dark blue of the sky fades to black. On the opposite horizon, the moon begins to rise. I'm not sure how long we've just been sitting here, watching the sky. I get to my feet and grab Space by his top handle, opening the door with my right hand. I set him inside and go back for Wheatley, who is staring at the rising moon. I lightly touch his top handle, not really sure what he's thinking about. He turns to face me. "Are we going back inside now?" he asks softly. I nod and set him inside. I step in and close the door behind me, glancing at the bright moon before it shuts. I grab a core in each hand and set them on the couch. Space Core seems like he's ready to go into sleep mode, his shutters half-closed and mumbling contentedly. Wheatley just stares at me as I set him down at the other end of the sofa. I pat his outer shell and walk to my room. But before I get there, I glance back. Space is already in sleep mode, but Wheatley is still wide awake. My blue-gray gaze meets Wheatley's sky blue eye. Then I turn and head into my room.

_Good night._ I think.

(The next morning)

I've had a rare dream-free night. The blackness, the silence of sleep was oh so welcome. And whether I would have had a nightmare or a blissful dream, I'm happy my sleep was empty of it all. _Maybe now that Wheatley's back I won't dream anymore._ I think. _No, I shouldn't get my hopes up. _I remind myself. _Now that he's here I'll probably have even MORE nightmares._ I think pessimistically. I don't want to keep arguing with myself, so I push the thought to the back of my mind. Pulling my bathrobe around me, I open my door and walk quietly out of the room and down the hall.

"Space Sheriff Chell." the Space Core acknowledges my presence as I walk into the living room. I slightly smile and nod at the core. Wheatley is still in sleep mode. I walk over to the cores, Space staring up at me. I kneel down and gently pet Wheatley's chassis, staring at the sleeping robot longingly. I'm so happy he's back. I stand and pause. I stare at the ceiling as an idea forms in my head. With the right measurements and a little help from Wheatley, I could install a management rail in the house! It would be a long-term project, of course. I'd already lost enough money building the spacesuit and panels. And there were other factors I'd need to take into consideration as well. I sit down on the couch between Space and Wheatley, contemplating the idea. I store it in my memory for later and walk into the kitchen to make breakfast. After I've poured a bowl of Cheerios and milk for myself, I sit down at the dining table to eat. As I munch, I notice the Companion Cube sitting forgotten in the corner. _Oh well._ I think. _I have better companions now._ I've never really had any particular attachment to the thing, anyway. Actually, I became quite attached to a Weighted Storage Cube. When I was escaping GLaDOS, I kept the Cube with me, hoping I could use it as a shield against turrets. I came to a disgusting sewer. When I portaled out of it, I was in a massive room with turrets all around me. The Cube made an effective shield, and I swore I would have died that day if not for the Cube. That room was terrifying, the haunting voices of turrets seeming to mock me, their red tracking beams flicking around, waiting for the right moment to strike. I guess I became attached to that cube because it was my only friend in a situation where everything and everyone else was against me. But then I came to an Emancipation Grill. I couldn't bear to fizzle the thing, so I left it behind in a safe corner. I wonder if it's still there, smudged and riddled with bullet holes. Anyway, as I was saying, I don't know why I still keep the Companion Cube around. All it does is remind me of the past and take up space. Really, it hurts me more than helps me. I guess I don't get rid of it because it serves as a kind of memento for me. Like a prize or trophy. It's symbolic. It's a statement of sorts. It says **I survived.** And when I see it I get the teeniest feeling of pride. **I made it. I'm still alive.**

Glancing back at the cores, I see that Wheatley is still asleep. I stick my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher then sit back on the couch between the cores. I stare at Wheatley. He looks so peaceful, just sitting there. I want to hold him tight, but I don't for fear he'd wake up. I pull the laptop across the table and into my lap. Once I get to my journal, I report the lack of a dream or nightmare. Then I describe Wheatley, and how he looks so peaceful in sleep mode. Suddenly, I hear his shutters open. I slam the laptop closed to make sure he doesn't see what I've written. I fake a smile at him and shrug. I quickly stand and open the laptop on the table so that the screen is facing away from the two robots. I X out of my journal and open up a blank document, then plop back down on the sofa.

**Good morning.** I type.

"Hello." Wheatley says. He doesn't say anything else, which is a little odd.

Suddenly, out of the blue, I have another idea.

**Wheatley, do you know of any way I could plug you into the computer or something? Just so you can use it and access the files and stuff. **I type, feeling clever for coming up with the idea. Now the two cores will have something to do while I'm away at work tomorrow.

"Oh, that's brilliant! Brilliant idea!" Wheatley happily exclaims. I smile warmly down at him. "Normally there'd be a port for you to plug me into, but seeing as the area is lacking any... Uh... Ports..." he trailed off. "Oh! Oh! Wait!" he yells suddenly. "I've got a little chord in here... UBS, I believe it's called. Could you, could you plug me in with that?"

**USB.** I correct. **And yes, I can hook you up with that.**

"Fantastic! Just... Just one little thing... They told me that if I ever used this cable, I would die!" I can't help but laugh at this. "But... Uh... The flashlight and falling off the management rail didn't kill me... So... I think we're all good!" I smile at him and he slides apart the metal plates on his top to reveal a small black chord. I unroll the smooth, black cable and carefully plug the end into the USB port on my laptop. "Oh! Yes! I'm connected!" Wheatley pipes. "Now I can control the computer!" the cursor jumps wildly around the screen. I reach down and type a few words.

**Space, do you want to be connected too?**

"Yes! Yes! Earth computer!" the corrupted core calls. "I'm the best at Earth!" I shake my head and give a tiny smile to the little ball of metal. Though he is totally insane, he can still be amusing at times. Space struggles to open up the compartment Wheatley did. His plates creak and hiss. They slide back and forth a few times before finally jolting to an opening. I tentatively reach in and pull out the cable. Then, I plug it into the secondary USB port on the opposite side of the laptop from where Wheatley is plugged in.

"Do I really have to share the computer with... Him?" Wheatley asks as Space tries out moving the cursor. I glare at Wheatley.

**Yes.** I type.

"Oh, alright." Wheatley grumbles, rolling his eye. I feel a tiny smile creep across my face. I love it when he does that. I don't know why. I've always loved to watch him move. It's fascinating how the little ball of metal with only a single eyes can be so expressive. Since the first time I saw him I'd been fascinated by his design. I'd spend much of the time when we weren't escaping simply watching him. As he talked, he would always be cocked to one side, his optic blinking and growing and shrinking. He would use his shutters and handles to show expressions. Occasionally, he would jerk to one side as a burst of sparks showered off him with a _chhh_ sound. As he moved, I could hear the sounds of his insides at work. A robotic _rrrrr_ every once in a while. And he never took his single, sky blue eye off me. I remember that. That felt good, as if he was worried about me. As if he cared.

But all that changed. If he really did care, he stopped caring as soon as he was in control. But before, when he was just a core, did he care? Did we have any kind of friendship at all? I don't know. I take a look at the evidence for both choices. I remember when the lights went out, and he guided me through the backrooms of the facility with his flashlight. He certainly seemed to care then.

"Brilliant! You made it through! Well done!"

"Oh, careful now."

"Careful... Careful..."

"Wait. Careful. Let me light this jump for you."

"OK, this looks dangerous. I'll hold the light steady."

"Oh, nicely done!"

I remember him saying all these things. He complimented me. Worried about me. Waited for me. Entertained me.

"... Ends up giving me the WORST possible job, tending to all the smelly humans."

Okay, well, that wasn't the nicest thing... But he apologized afterward.

"The... Um... Sorry... I wouldn't say smelly. Just tending to the humans."

And he apologized in such a cute, bumbling way it made me forgive him immediately.

"Sorry. That just slipped out. A bit insensitive. Umm... The smelly humans..."

He WORRIED about me. And that was the best feeling in the world.

"Okay, wait, let me light this path for you."

"We have to get you out of that room!"

And he was guilty about what he said earlier, because a while afterward he suddenly burst out:

"Ah. I tell ya. Humans. Just love 'em. Just... The way they look is great. And their... Folklore. Wonderful, very colorful..."

That had made me laugh inside.

"Good luck!"

"Be careful!"

"Are you OK?"

"Are you alive down there?"

"If you are alive, can you say something? Jump around so I know you are OK?"

"There you are! I was starting to get worried."

"Ah! Brilliant. You made it through. Well done."

"Follow me! You're gonna love this."

Even after I had forgotten about the "smelly humans" incident he still felt bad. Because out of the blue...

"I thought of another great thing about humans. You invented us."

But he started to get rude after that. And he never apologized for anything he did after that, either.

"... Giving us the opportunity to let you relax while we invented everything else. We couldn't have done any of that without you. Classy. If you don't mind me saying."

That was braggy and boasty, and he made it sound as if he was superior to me.

"Tadah! Only the turret control center. Thank you very much."

"Would you mind putting your back towards me? So I can only see your back. And not your face."

"Oh! I've just had an idea, which is that I could pretend to Her that I've captured you, and give you over and she'll kill you, but I could go on... Living. So, what's your view on that?"

I realize they might have been honest mistakes, but they still hurt. I just want to know... Was he _planning_ to betray me?

I've been staring out the window as I think, totally spaced out. I come back to reality and look at Wheatley, who is messing around on the laptop with glee, Space occasionally chiming in with a comment about Earth or space.

"Oh... Oh... How do I do this? I'll just move this file here. UNDELETE, UNDELETE! Where's the undelete button?!" Wheatley yelps.

I take in a sharp breath. I would have laughed if I hadn't heard those same words before. So innocent now... So evil then... He had said those same words as he was trying to kill me for the last time.

I remember jumping toward the unfamiliar core (who I now know as the Space Core), switching on the portal gun's tractor beam. As I fell back down, the beam snatched the core out of the dangling claw GLaDOS (or PotatOS, I guess) had sent. The core was rambling about how he wanted to go to space, but I ignored it's talking. Everything was falling apart around me. A pipe burst, splattering blue repulsion gel the color of Wheatley's ocular across the floor. I paused. He was hanging down limply from the ceiling, optic closed. So vulnerable. It hurt me to be doing this to him. But I only looked at him for a second before I bounced on the repulsion gel. As I flew upward, I slammed the core onto a spot high up on Wheatley's supercomputer body that was blinking red.

"Ahhh..." he groaned, starting up again. He struggled to get to an upright position. "What - What happened? What happened? What - What - What have you put onto me? What is that?" he asked in a confused flurry of questions, stumbling over his words. "Hold on." There was a rapid clicking noise. "Ah, the bloody bombs are stuck on! Doesn't matter - I've reconfigured the shields." He held the shields shields in a circle above him. He quickly realized what I'd stuck on him. "Oh, it's a core you've put on me! Who told you to do that? Was it Her?" He quickly glanced around. "It's only making me stronger, luv! It's a fool's errand!" He swung his massive, 40-foot body toward me so he could aim better and began to throw bombs at me. I dodged skillfully. He never stopped throwing bombs the entire time he talked. "Are you trying to weigh me down?" he mocked. "Think I'll fall out of the ceiling? Won't work. I'm not just quit brilliant, I'm also quite strong. Biggest muscle in my body: My brain. Second biggest: My muscles. So it's not going to work. Clearly."

"Did you put a virus in them? It's not going to work either. Alright? I've got a firewall, mate. Literally, actually, now that I look around." He looked around the room. "There appears to be literally a wall of fire around this place. That's quite- It's alarming, to say the least." I glanced around. He was right. Through the huge gaps in the battered walls, I could see orange flames leaping and blazing all around. "In fact, I'm gonna have to take a break for a minute. A partial break during which I'll stop the facility from exploding while still throwing bombs at you." He continued throwing bombs at me, but his attention seemed elsewhere. "Alright, then. Let's see... 'Vital maintenance protocols'. Wow, there's a lot of them. Should have looked into this earlier. Well, let's try this: DO THEM." A buzzer blared loudly and angrily as a response. "Fair enough. Maybe it's a password. AAAAAA." the buzzer sounded again. "No, okay. AAAAAB." There went the buzzer again. "Hold on, I've done both of these. Skip ahead. ABCDGH." A positive ding echoed around the chamber. Wheatley then went on a little rant of celebration. "Hah! It bloody worked! I hacked it! Hacked. Properly. Properly hacked. Ha ha ha!" he laughed with glee. I wondered at how he could be so calm, let alone happy, in a situation like this. "Now, then, let's see what we got here. Oh! 'Reactor Core Emergency Heat Venting Protocols'. That's the problem right there, isn't it? 'Emergency'. You don't want to see 'Emergency" flashing at you. Never good, that, is it? Right. 'DELETE'." Something must have gone wrong then then, because Wheatley panicked. "UNDELETE, UNDELETE! Where's the undelete button!?" As I dodged another bomb, I knew with a sinking feeling that I was helpless to stop the entire place from exploding.

As the memories recede back into my mind, I look over at the two cores again. They've found some online game they're playing together, one where some badly animated tanks are shooting at each other.

"Spaceship BOOM!" the Space Core screeches. Wheatley laughs and I give them a weak smile, but my eyes are sad. I want to ask Wheatley if he intended to betray me. Oh, I want to so bad. But I don't wan to dig up the past again. That would weaken the bond we seemed to be reforming. So I stay silent, and my question remains unanswered.


	5. 5: Love Hurts

**Thanks again to all who reviewed! Even the smallest little piece of advice makes a difference, really.**

**In this chapter you'll be subtly introduced to a new character (He was not in the Portal series, just an OC). He'll play a small part in the chapters to come. And we'll also learn a little bit about how Chell got used to living in a modern society.**

**I'll try to post a new chapter every week from now on. Chapter 6 is finished and coming soon!**

* * *

Chapter 5: Love Hurts

That night, Chell leaves the Space core and I on the sofa again. It doesn't take long for the other personality sphere to close his shutters and go into sleep mode. I feel slightly tired, if that's even a thing robots can do. I've never really been tired before. I've always gone into sleep mode at the end of the day. But last night I stayed awake. I really don't know why. I spent most of the night simply staring up at the moon. I had a feeling tonight was going to be a lot like the last. Chell keeps the blinds open during the night, which I appreciate a lot. I like to look out the window. Outside it is dark except for the lamppost at the end of the road (I think it's called a road, at least, we didn't have any of them in Aperture). The moon is bright tonight. I stare up at it, mind empty. Then, suddenly, I have a thought.

_How did I get there?_

I find myself going back through my memories, retracing the steps I took to bring myself to the moon. First, I had awoken Chell from who knew how many years of cyrosleep. And honestly, everything was going pretty well until we got to the main breaker room. That's when the trouble started. When I told her to plug me in, she did so obediently, without a question. She trusted me to get her out of Aperture safely. But I failed her. And blamed her for it, too. It was my fault that She woke up. The maniac who wanted to kill everyone. And apparently, Chell was the one who had taken her down! I should have been honored to be in the presence of the one who had taken down the homicidal psychopath. But again, I blamed Chell in the end for not telling me she had murdered Her. It wasn't as if she could speak to me anyway. She was mute. Brain damaged. And she didn't try to act it out for me either, likely because she knew for a fact that She was dead, since she's killed Her. But no, I went and bloody woke Her up! Flipped the wrong switch like a moron and brought Her back to life! And then She crushed me. Maybe if I had just died then, none of this would have happened. Painful way to die, sure, but surely it was better than what happened afterward? But the bloody scientists built me to last. And so I survived and found Chell again. And we shut down Her turrets and Her neurotoxin. And when we got to Her chamber, she plugged me in. And she pressed the button that nearly spelled her demise. I wish she had never, never ever pressed the stalemate button. Being in control, being in power made me do insane things I never would have done otherwise. I punched Her and Chell down into the pit. I thought they were both dead. But I was wrong. Chell came back, and all I did was use her. And when I had no more need of her, I tried to get rid of her. I mocked her and set death traps for her and did all the manner of horrible things to her. She used to be perhaps my only friend, but I threw that all away after the core transfer. Like a fool. And the things I said to her, they must have made some permanent scars. I remember...

"Okay, look, I've decided not to kill you, _if_ you come back." I lied as Chell cleverly escaped my first death trap. She turned and glanced quizzically over her shoulder at me, then came back. She looked at me with a confused stare as she did so. She stood at the edge of the catwalk, which ended in a mass of twisted metal and a long fall into a probably bottomless pit. _Okay, it wasn't a total lie when I said I wouldn't kill her if she came back._ I thought to myself. _I'll get her to kill herself._ I was extremely surprised when she actually came back. "Oh! You came back! Didn't actually plan... Didn't actually plan for that." I said. I had planned to kill her if she came back, actually, but due to the lack of deadly objects nearby I couldn't. "Can't actually reset the death trap." I mumbled. "So. Ah. could you just jump into that pit? There. That deadly pit." I paused to come up with another lie. "You're saying to yourself, why should I jump into the pit? I'll tell you why. Guess who's down there? Your parents! You're not adopted after all! It's your natural parents down there in the pit. Should have mentioned it before. But I didn't. So jump down and reunite with Mommy and Daddy."

She just stared up at me.

"Oh, I'll tell you what's also down there. Your parents and... An escape elevator! Down there. Funny. I should have mentioned it before. But so it's down there. So pop down. Jump down. You've got your folks down there and an escape elevator. And what else is down there... Tell you what, it's only a new jumpsuit! A very trendy designer jumpsuit from France. Down there. And it's exactly your size. And if it's a bit baggy, we got a tailor down there as well who can take it in for you."

"And what's this, a lovely handbag? And three portal device! It's all down there! Um... You've got a yacht. And... Boys! Loads of fellas. Hunky guys down there. Possibly even a boyfriend. Who's to say at this stage. But, a lot of good looking fellas down there. And, ah, a boy band as well! They haven't seen a woman in years. And they're not picky at all. They don't care if you've got a bit of brain damage. If you've been running around sweating. And... A farm! A pony farm! And... Just jump down, would ya?"

But Chell can see through my lies and empty promises. She wore a strange expression. It was hope, dread, worry, sorrow, and hurt all rolled into one. She thought that maybe I wasn't lying. She wanted me to come back to her. That's what her expression told me. Looking back, it's heartbreaking. It crushes me inside. But back then, I thought nothing of it. She turned and walked away.

"I can't believe you came back." I hear Her tell Chell as they leave.

_I've been such a monster to you, Chell._ I think. _I'm so sorry. What have I done?_

I don't even realize I'm crying until I start making the sobbing noises again. I try to cry quietly so no one wakes up, but I just get louder. I swear the neighbors can probably all hear me. I don't know how or why, but Space Core is still in sleep mode. Or at least I think he is, it's possible he's just pretending. I don't hear Chell's door softly open over the sound of my bawling. I don't even notice her until she's about three feet away, possibly because my ocular is blurry for some strange reason. Maybe it's from crying? I try to say something to her, but I can't. I can only sob. She kneels down and slowly, gently wraps her arms around me. It feels nice to have her warm human form pressed up against my outer shell. She picks me up, not grabbing me by my handles just instead simply holding me tight to her chest as she walks toward her room. Softly, she enters and closes the door behind her with one hand. She fumbles in the darkness until she reaches her bed, then sets me down on it and climbs in, pulling the covers over her body. She grabs me and pulls me close to her face, which is illuminated by the blue glow of my optic. I can see her put a finger to her lips, but I can't stop crying. I would if I could. She holds me in her arms and presses her cheek against my front plate. I know she's doing her best to comfort me. The sounds of my sobbing decrease in volume, but I don't stop. She gently strokes my chassis. She keeps comforting me, never taking her eyes off me. What seems like an eternity later, I've finally cried myself out. I can see Chell's eyelids drooping, and I feel so tired I could stay in sleep mode for a week. Chell gently reaches out and slides my shutters closed. I let her. And finally, I go into sleep mode.

* * *

A tiny, faint sound comes from inside Wheatley.

_Sleep mode activated_, it chimes in a voice clearly not Wheatley's. I know I'm about to fall asleep, but before I do I lightly plant a kiss on Wheatley's chassis. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time.

He probably thought I had just been trying to comfort him. And I had been. But part of me wished tonight had meant something more. _Dang it, Wheatley._ I think. _I love you so much. Why is it you, of all the things in the world, I have to love? Why do you have to be so awkwardly charming, so bumbling and adorable?_ I half-wish he knew how I felt. But, as always, he would remain clueless and in the dark. Maybe one day I'll tell him, but it'll be a long time before I ever have the courage to tell my greatest secret. I lay down, close my eyes, and am just about ready to go to sleep.

Then he starts mumbling.

"Guess who's down there? Your parents! You're not adopted after all!"

_Huh. _I think. _Who knew robots could talk in their sleep. Or dream, for that matter._

"No, don't listen to me." he says in a slightly different voice. "Don't jump down."

"It's you natural parents down there in the pit!" he argues to himself in the same voice as before. Suddenly, I realize he must be dreaming about the time he tried to get me to jump into the pit, right after he nearly killed me with "mashy spike plates". I remember that. I knew he was lying to me, but against my better judgement, I went back. I still hung onto the hope that he was the same old Wheatley.

"And an escape elevator!"

"No, there's no escape elevator."

"And a new jumpsuit! a very trendy designer jumpsuit. From France."

"Don't listen!"

"And it's you size. Exactly. And if it's not, there's a tailor down there who'll fix it right up for you."

"I'm lying! Don't jump down, lady!"

"Hmm... There's also a yacht... Oh, and three portal device!"

"Chell! Don't do it!"

"And boys! Loads of hunky fellas! And a boy band!"

"No! You can't! You've got to run away, and you've got to find me, and you've got to stop me... _I'm evil..._"

_You're not evil._ I respond inwardly. _Don't ever say that._

But back then I thought differently. I remember staring down into the pit. I felt as if there was nothing left to live for. _Why not jump down?_ I thought. _Why not end my life now?_ I wondered why I even wanted to be free so badly. What was the point of it all? What would I find up there except a post-apocalyptic wasteland, anyway? _Why don't I just give up? End this nightmare I'm living in? _My best friend and perhaps the only thing I had ever loved had betrayed me. And through it all, I had only been a pawn in the game of war between two robots: GLaDOS and Wheatley. Why was I even helping GLaDOS? She'd kill me after she got back in her body anyway. I looked down into the pit. The walls stretched down until they faded into a gray haze like the one inside me. I took a step toward the edge. Then I stopped. My head snapped up as Wheatley started to tell me how there were all these great boys in the pit. "Hunky fellas", he called them. That made a strange mix of anger, longing, and other feelings well up inside me. _Don't you understand, Wheatley? _I thought. _You're the one that I want. _Suddenly, a surge of determination shot through me. Had I really been about to give up? No way. I was going to show Wheatley how wrong he was. I was going to keep pushing forward and not look back. And I was going to rip that core I both loved and hated right out of his stupid body. With that, I whirled on him and strode away confidently.

"No, please don't give me that look." I hear Wheatley whine. "Please. Please don't do that." Then he lowers his voice to a quiet, desperate whisper. "It hurts me inside." After that he is silent. I force myself to stay awake for a while longer to make sure he's finally settled into a peaceful sleep. When he quits his murmuring, I lay my head back on the pillow, close my eyes, and fall asleep.

* * *

I'm awakened by Space's cries of panic.

"EARTH BUDDY! Earth buddy!" he screeches loudly. "Where are you?" Chell is sitting up behind me, listening. "Oh. Oh. Oh. He's been taken. Taken by the space cops. Guilty. Guilty of not being in space. They've taken him. NOOOO!" he wails.

"Can you... Can you tell him I'm here?" I ask Chell. "Don't want to worry him." I laugh nervously, spinning around to face her. Her black hair is tangled up in a snarled mess and there are dark bags under her eyes. "AH!" I yelp, her appearance scaring me. "Oh. My. God. You look terrib- umm, good. Looking good, actually." I lie with another anxious chuckle, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She sharply hits me on my side. "Ow! What was that for?" I retaliate in surprise. She just gives me a glare, picks me up (by my top handle this time), and carries me back into what she calls the living room.

"EARTH BUDDY!" Space exclaims as soon as I'm in his sight. "Free from the space cops!"

"Right you are, mate." I laugh a little bit awkwardly, playing along. Chell plunks me down on the kitchen table, then grabs the Space Core and sets him beside me. I watch as she goes into the kitchen. She opens up a cupboard and begins to pull out a plate, but pauses. She glances at the plate, then at me, and carefully sets the plate back in the cupboard. She pulls out a bowl instead and goes about making herself "breakfast". When she is done, she sits down at the table. As she eats, she types things into the computer. She explains how she has to go to work during the day and she'll hook us up to the computer so we won't get bored. She stops moving for a second, "spoon" halfway to her mouth, as if she's just thought of something. She then sets the spoon back in the bowl and types a question into the computer.

**Wheatley, you were muttering in your sleep last night. Is that normal?**

"Oh, yeah." I respond shyly, not really wanting to talk about it. Hopefully I hadn't said anything to embarrassing. "Every time I go go into sleep mode, y'know, my system automatically does a data backup. Sometimes when the, uh, files are getting all backed up, I subconsciously see some of the memories, y'know? Weird, I know. But don't be alarmed, alright? It's all normal for me."

**Like dreaming.**

"Sorta."

Chell gives me an odd look, then stands up and walks back into the kitchen to put away her dishes. She goes back to her room, leaving the Space Core and I alone for fifteen extremely boring minutes before finally emerging. She wears a deep lavender short-sleeved shirt and violet trousers. She fiddles with a purple beaded bracelet on her right arm before looking over at me with smiling gray-blue eyes. Her tangled black hair has been taken care of, and it now hangs in a sleek black "ponytail". She certainly does look pretty, by human standards.

"Y'know, you're looking quite nice today, if I do say so myself." I comment. She thanks me with a smile and a pat. Then, she sets the laptop on the living room table and sets Space and I close together on the couch. She plugs us both in and strides to the door, grabbing a black "purse" as she goes. She pulls on shiny black shoes with a tall, flat spike sticking out of the heel. Weird things, they are. I don't quite get the point of them. If anything, they look uncomfortable and hard to walk in. I look up form Chell's strange shoes to her face. As she opens the door to leave, she raises one hand and gives me a wave. All I can do in response is wiggle my top handle a little. She lets out a tiny giggle at this.

"G'bye!" I call as the door closes, leaving Space and I alone. I watch through the window as her small red car turns right at the end of the road and disappears from view. I wonder what shes does for work anyway. Surely it's not anything too sciencey. She probably doesn't want to keep being reminded of her past. I'll have to ask her when she gets back. Oh well. I decide to see if there's anything entertaining in the computer's files before surfing the internet. I click on the little folder icon on the bottom of the screen. There are a few options from there, including pictures, documents, and music.

"Pictures!" Space instantly decides, clicking on the picture icon. "Space pictures! Earth pictures!"

"Oh well." I sigh, rolling my eye. "I guess we're looking at pictures first." We scroll through the pictures. A few of them are of a big group of people, Chell among them, with a large sign hanging over their heads. **PROGRAMMING & CODING DIVISION**, it reads. There are also many pictures of Chell with an unfamiliar man. He stands taller than Chell, with black hair slicked upward at the front. I stare into his empty blue eyes, which are a slightly lighter shade of blue than my ocular. Something about this man seems off. I shouldn't be judgy, but I don't like the looks of him. Chell stands next to him, smiling. But as I look at the more recent pictures of Chell and the man, I notice something. Chell's smile seems more and more forced, and her eyes seem more and more tired. _Is this man bothering her?_ I wonder, moving my shutters a little closer together in concentration and confusion. There's another thing I'll have to ask her about. I go back to the screen with documents, pictures, and music on it. _Documents?_ I wonder as I click it. The first item on the list of documents catches my eye. **Journal**. It simply says. I open it up, curious. As I begin to read the first entry, I have a feeling that I'm looking at something pretty serious.

"Space is undocumented." the Space Core chimes beside me.

"Could you be quiet, mate?" I grumble at the personality sphere. "This is important. I need some quiet time, alright?"

"Space." Space says before going quiet.

I look back at the first entry.

**June 28, 2052**

**It's been almost a year since I gained my freedom.**

_But it's been two years._ I think in puzzlement. _Oh, this was written a year ago. _I realize.

**But I'm not going to write about that. I want to leave that part of my life behind me. But it's almost impossible. Even the very name of the town that I now reside in brings back memories. Blueville. Blue, the color of Wheatley's optic. Even as I finally left the place I hate so much, the scenery mocked me. Wheat, for Wheatley. I thought I would never find the end of that field. I'm incredibly lucky to be here typing this, leading a semi-normal life (what with being mute and all). I remember as I finally trudged into the city a torrential rain began to fall. I was soaked in a matter of minutes. I ducked into a nearby grocery store to escape the downpour. That's where I met Wanda, bless her soul. That woman has been my saving grace. If not for her, I doubt I'd be typing this right now. She took me in, gave me food and shelter. And she showed me how to live a normal life. She really has been like a mother to me. I was reluctant to explain my past to her, but I told her some things. And she didn't think I was crazy! She provided me with all the tools I needed to buy this house and get a job. She taught me everything she knew about programming and coding, so now I work with her under the same roof, in the same company, in the same division. And life's a lot better compared to... Back there.**

_So that explains what she does for a living,_ I conclude before moving on to the next entry.

**June 29, 2052**

**I lied when I said that I wouldn't write about the past. It's all I ever think about. Everything I see reminds me of Wheatley. The blue sky is the color of his ocular. the very computer I'm typing on is made of metal and wires like him. He's probably floating aimlessly around the moon, the Space Core pestering him about space.**

_She's got that right._ I let out the beginnings of a laugh.

**I wonder if both of them will just freeze. I'm guessing they'll have internal heaters, but not strong ones. If we ever meet again, will he still hate me? Will he still want me dead? I don't know. But if he finds it in his stupid robotic heart to apologize, I'll forgive him. I know I'm too trusting, but I want his friendship back again. Other than Wanda, I don't have many friends. And as I said earlier, she's more of a mother to me than a friend. There's Rob, but I'm fairly sure he likes me as more than a friend. It's a bit freaky, really. He follows me.**

_Rob? Could that be the man in the pictures? _I wonder. _And he likes her as _more _than a friend? He follows her? That's downright creepy, if you ask me. _I feel a hint of jealousy bubble up within me, but I quickly push it away. _Why should I be jealous? I'm just worried this guy may be stalking her or something._

**And he reminds me too much of Cave Johnson, the maniac who left prerecorded messages for the future.**

I know Cave Johnson founded Aperture, but I thought he died years ago. _And what's all this about prerecorded messages?_

**And Cave really wasn't the nicest man, if the messages I've heard are anything to go off of. I still remember him saying how he fired a man just for being in a wheelchair. ****"Ramps are expensive!" he retorted. **

**Down in the long sealed away, forgotten parts of Aperture, I wandered. I thought once I got to the bottom of that pit (if I wasn't dead) I'd at least have GLaDOS (or PotatOS, as I jokingly called her). But that crow carried her off. And I trudged lost amongst the ruins, my heart broken. Alone. I felt so utterly alone. It was just silence. None of GLaDOS's snarky comments or Wheatley's constant rambling to fill the void. And I couldn't even talk to myself. I had no voice to listen to except the silent one in my head. I remember the dim light down there, like the blue-gray sky in a foggy rainstorm. There were puddles too, as if instead of raining from the sky it rained from the ceiling so far above me I couldn't even see it. Even in the dank dampness, eternal fires blazed among the twisted metal. The broken, slick concrete paths were cracked and upheaved as if they had been in an earthquake. I shuffled slowly along the dark-stained walkways without aim. Alone. The feeling inside me was empty. As if there was a huge, aching hollow inside my chest. A slowly throbbing, dull pain. I cried at first, but after that I didn't feel sad. Just alone. And so I kept on going, I don't even know how long. I went among the ruins of my life and love, not knowing which way to turn or what to do next, with no motivation to do anything. **

**But deep inside me, a tiny light still shone. It was the will to survive. I still had that, even though I didn't notice that little light far within me. I didn't give up. It's not in my nature. Sure, I _felt_ as if I'd given up, but I didn't. And in my darkest moments, after hours upon hours upon hours of wandering, that little light was about to short out. **

**Then I came to the condemned doors. Suddenly, I had a purpose. To get past those doors. And I did. And I kept going on, now with a goal. I opened the vault, found PotatOs, and didn't feel so alone.**

My thoughts are spinning with all the information I've just heard. But I manage to make sense of it. _So that's what happened to her after I punched her down into the pit. _I sigh and scroll down to the next entry.

**June 30, 2052**

**This journal was intended to chronicle my new life, but all I've really done so far is recall the part of it I've tried so hard to forget. I'll never really be able to leave Aperture behind. Here I am, leading a new life, but I'm still living in the past. I can't think, can't live life without being reminded of that dreadful place every waking moment. My sleep is not safe, either. Nightmares plague me every time I close my eyes. The moment I relive most in my head is the moment when Wheatley stabbed me in the back. I will never, ever forget that moment. I remember every detail crystal clear. The moment when his laugh turned evil and his voice turned dark and sinister as the lift jolted to a halt.**

**"Actually, why do we have to leave right now?"**

**I didn't even fully realize his betrayal at first, the shock numbing my brain. How could he do this to me? I love him.**

_Wait, what? Did I read that right? _I read the last sentence again, but process the same words. _That can't be right. Must be sarcasm, or something. _I read on.

**I loved him with all my heart, and he is the only thing I've ever loved in the world. I was planning on somehow telling him at some point, but that changed when he turned his back on me forever. I'll never get to tell him now. Maybe if I had told him, he wouldn't have become so evil and corrupt. Or he might have just laughed in my face. But one thing's for sure, I'll never be the same after his betrayal. My heart is broken beyond repair.**

**Yet after all he's done to me, I still feel the same emotion toward the core. How can my heart feel anything but hate toward him, let alone love? Maybe I'm just insane. Maybe I have Stockholm Syndrome. The ironic mental disorder of feeling affection toward one's captor or tormentor. I am supposed to be brain damaged, after all. But something inside me knows it's not Stockholm Syndrome. More than Stockholm Syndrome, if that even makes any sense. Just me loving him. And I know one thing with absolute certainty.**

**Love hurts.**

_She... She LOVES me?_ I think in complete and utter shock, barely processing what I'm reading. _I can't even begin to imagine how heartbroken she must be after I tried to kill her, taunted her, mocked her... _Guilt and sadness wash over me again, greater than ever before. I cry. This time, I don't think I'll ever stop. Space looks at me with optic wide for a few minutes, a horrified look on his faceplate. Then, slowly, he leans up against me, pressing his side to mine comfortingly.

"Hey. Earth buddy. Hey. Hey." he says.

"Not... Right... Not right no-now, mate!" I choke out through a series of sniffles and sobs as I begin to shake.

He looks me in the eye and says calmly and clearly, "It's okay." Probably the most intelligent thing he's ever said. But I know it's not okay, and his futile attempt to calm me down fails. _I'm the most terrible thing in the entire universe to do this to her._ Time ticks by, but I continue to blubber helplessly. "Earth buddy. Earth buddy." Space speaks again after an hour. "Stop."

"C-c-caa...Nn't..." I squeeze out. This terrible feeling inside me engulfs me. I cry for another hour before finally being able to stop. "I-I'm-I'm sorry for that." I stammer in apology to the Space Core. He looks at me with an almost knowing eye, and I knew he accepts my apology. I hear the sound of the garage door opening and quickly X out of the journal, then shut down the computer. I turn to look at Space. "Don't say a word about this, alright? Got it?" I ask him. He nods his faceplate up and down as a "yes". The door creaks open and Chell steps in, sets down her purse, and pulls off her shoes. She waves to me in greeting, but she wears a weary expression. I stare at her in silence, unable to ever look at her the same way again. I have no idea what to say to her. All I can think about is what I read in her journal. She loves me. As she looks at me, her tired blue-gray gaze turns into one of warmth and affection. The corners of her mouth turn upward to hint at a smile. _How could I have been so blind? _But behind her friendly, loving gaze I can see a trace of wariness and fear. I don't blame her. How can she ever trust me again after what I've done? I wonder what kind of inner turmoil she's going through, one part of her loving me and the other knowing how evil I've been.

She looks at me with a worried and confused expression at my silence, expecting me to say something. _I have to pretend I never saw anything._ "Hello!" I call out, but slightly choke on the word. Chell walks into the living room and sits down beside me. She cocks her head at me, still wearing a puzzled expression. With eyes still on me, she starts up the laptop with one hand. She opens up a blank document.

**Is something wrong?** she immediately types, glancing at me worriedly. I can't respond. My thoughts are whirling, frantically trying to make sense of the situation. I'm not even sure my thought processors can take much more of this. I try to start at the basics. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? It's a good thing because it means she completely, 100% forgives me. It's a bad thing because it means everything I've done hurt her about a million times more. Yes, it's a bad thing. Absolutely, positively, totally, without a doubt, a very, very bad thing. Suddenly, I feel the light touch of Chell's hand on my shell. She pulls her hand back after a few seconds and gives me a weird look. **Wheatley? Are you okay? You're overheating.** she types.

_Overheating?_ I think, still in a panic. My optic darts around rapidly as if I can see inside myself to the source of the problem. Now I can feel the heat radiating off me, hear my internal fans whirring loudly, trying desperately to get my temperature back to normal. I should just go into sleep mode so I can avoid this situation entirely and give my processors time to cool off. I can tell something's going wrong with my system, but I ignore it. Sleep mode will make it all better, won't it?

"I... I think I'll just go into sleep mode for a while... Cool off..." I mumble. Before I can protest, I'm grabbed and violently shaken. My faceplate spins around and around until I dizzily manage to face Chell. her eyes are wide with fear. The look she's giving me seems to scream, _No! Do not go to sleep!_

"Relax, luv, it's not like I'm going to DIE or anything." I murmur as I begin to shut down. She drops me back onto the couch, hands red, burned, and shaking. Her lip trembles and shiny wet drops begin to form at the corners of her eyes. I don't even know what's going on anymore.

**STAY AWAKE!** She slams into the keyboard, hands flopping wildly. She runs out of the room, and fast as lightning, comes back in with a small fan. With one hand, she tosses the Space Core onto the other couch. Moving quickly, she jams the fan's white cable into some sort of port. She sets the fan right next to me and turns it up to full power as I close my shutters. _Ah, that's nice..._ Just as I'm about to slide into sleep mode, Chell's fist slams down hard onto the top of my casing. It's painful.

"GA!" I gasp, shutters flying open, going from sleep mode to fully alert and awake in an instant.

**DO NOT SHUT DOWN! DO NOT GO INTO SLEEP MODE!** She smacks and pounds into the keys, frantically trying to get her message across.

"OKAY, OKAY, FINE!" I shout as I snap back to reality. "YOU DON'T HAVE TO YELL!"

There was a moment of silence, then Chell breaks down into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. "Wh-What? What's so funny?" I sputter. Chell could barely look at me. She clutches her stomach, tears brimming in her eyes because she's laughing so hard. She weakly points to me. "Me? Wa-Was it something I said? Oh... I understand now. Heh. That actually is pretty funny. Didn't mean to say that, o'course. Just slipped out. Not as if you could yell or anything... Yeah... Pretty amusing, to say the least..."

And then I laugh with her.

* * *

He laughs, not that evil laugh he taunted me with when he was in control, but that warm, kind laugh I love to hear. And it's the best feeling in the world to hear that noise again.


	6. 6: Time to Think

Chapter 6: Time to Think

Eventually we stop laughing. But then comes the inevitable. I don't think I can handle this. My mind scrambles, grasping at nothing, searching for something to say. _This is not happening._ The laughter was a welcome distraction, but I know she's going to ask me questions I'm not sure how to answer.

**But seriously, Wheatley, what's going on?** Chell types, fingers now calmly gliding over the keys.

"Nothing, really." I respond in a casual tone.

**I'm not dumb. I know you're lying.**

I feel that I'll burst into nonexistent tears if I say anything else. But I have to say something.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, alright?" I mumble quietly, turning away from Chell.

**I'm here for you... You can tell me anything.**

"No, I can't."

**Of course you can.**

"Well, I'm not going to."

**I only want to help you.**

"You don't understand!" I cry out. "It's not something I can talk about." I sniff, trying desperately not to cry. The cool breeze of the fan chills me to the core. I've cooled off so much my internal heater starts up and begins to hum softly to counter the fan's chilling power. Chell notices and gently reaches over me to click off the fan, then sets it on the floor. She slowly picks me up and sets me on her lap. Feeling suddenly self-conscious after what I read in her journal, I shift and roll away from her, but she only places me on her lap again. "Please don't." I say. Instead of stopping, she puts one of her hands on my side. "Why can't you just respect that I don't want to talk to you right now?" I whine, close to tears. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" I glance back at her to see a hurt expression cross her face.

**Because I care about you. And it's my job as your friend to help you.** She types.

"Thing that would really help me, at present, is leaving me alone." I respond. "Please. I need to think."

**Fine. If that's what's going to help.** She grudgingly types. She picks me up and pads into her bedroom. She sets me on the bed and walks out, closing the door behind her and leaving me by myself. After a while, I hear the muffled, quiet voices of the Space Core and the TV, but it's enough silence for me to think. I shuffle down into the soft, navy blue blankets, tucking in my handles. Sunlight filters through the closed blinds, softly lighting the room. Dust motes drift in the sunbeams, floating in their slow dance. The surroundings instill a sense of calm in me. Finally, I'm alone, and I have time to think. I let out a scratchy, mechanical sigh, shift a little to get into a comfortable position, and begin my thinking. I'm not so shocked anymore as I am sad. _Okay..._ I think._ Start from the beginning..._

_So, she's in love with me. Psssh, love? What does she see in me, anyway? I'm the Intelligence Dampening Sphere, for goodness sakes! Okay, Wheatley, back on topic, stay on topic... Where was I? So, she loves me. And this is NOT GOOD, not good at all. This is a very bad thing. Now I need to figure out what to do next. I'm certainly not going to tell her I know, that's a sure thing. But what do I do now? I don't know, I just don't know._

_Have you ever considered loving her back?_ A voice whispers in the back of my mind. _NO WAY! She's a human, and I'm a robot, for one. And it'll just be more painful for her. I've got to make it so she DOESN'T love me. 'Cuz if she doesn't love me, she won't hurt as much, right?_

_How much_ have _I hurt the poor lady? Beyond repair, as she said herself. I emotionally scarred her for life, stabbed her in the back, betrayed her, left her alone and broken... Both physically _and _emotionally. She's a survivor, that woman. And I don't know how she carries on in life, after what I've done. Why did this have to happen? Why did everything turn out so wrong? Sorry won't ever fix anything. It can't turn back the clock. I can't undo the scars I've left. God, she must be in so much pain and suffering. I should be dead. _I think with a sinking feeling. _Yes, I should be dead. I should feel the pain that she felt... _A choking sound escapes my speakers. _Oh, not again... _I sob quietly, my vocal processor sounding like it's been smashed and clogged up. I hear the door quietly open and look up through my blurry optic to see Chell enter the room. Again, I have no idea what to say to her. She sits down on the bed beside me and looks at me in a soothing way. She lays a hand on top of me, but I turn away. I don't like the idea of her touching me know that I know how she feels. I bury my faceplate in the dark colored blanket. _I wish she would just go away._ I think, not really meaning it. She lifts me into her lap and leans back against the light oak headboard with a tiny sigh, gently resting each of her hands on my cool metal hull. As I cry softly, I shrug her hands off me and watch the flickering sunlight that shines through the blinds, avoiding her gaze. _Why does she always have to find me like this?_ I wonder sorrowfully. _  
_

"I thought I told you... To leave me alone." I say halfheartedly through my tears. Her only reply is to shake her head a little. "But... I se... Eee you're not going to." I say, the crying sounds becoming less and less frequent. With a final sniff, my sobbing ceases. Stubbornly, I still refuse to meet Chell's eyes. "Why?" I whisper quietly. I'm not sure of the reason that word escaped my vocal processor. It could refer to anything at the moment, really. Why is Chell here, comforting me, after I very clearly told her to LEAVE ME ALONE? Why did everything have to end up like this? Why does she love me, especially after I'd tried to kill her?

Why do robots cry?

I finally turn to meet Chell's gaze, slightly curious at what her reaction to my one word question would be. Her eyes have taken on a watery, far-away look. They are the sad eyes of someone who has seen terrible things, and the knowing eyes of someone who has learned the ways of the world the hard way. Yet at the same time there is an innocence in those eyes, as if she doesn't understand why these horrible things happened to her, as if she's lost and confused. She lightly rests her chin on top of my metal casing. I really want to get her off me, but the sorrow in her gray-blue eyes convinces me to let her stay where she is. Gosh, everything is going to be so _awkward_ from now on. I follow her gaze upward, but only see the ceiling. The distance in her eyes tells me that's not what she's looking at, though. I wonder what the question means to her. Why?

* * *

I lean against the metal sphere and sigh. I wonder why he's been acting so depressed ever since he got back to Earth. I don't like it, and it's not like him. I feel so bad for him. I don't want him to be sad. Why make a robot able to experience sadness and pain? It seems cruel and unfair. I hate to see him suffering like this. I only have his well-being at heart. I really do want to help him, but I can't if he won't tell me what's going on. If he just opened up, I could help him, but he's a lot more stubborn than I previously thought. With another sigh, I lean back against the headboard, pulling the personality core into my arms.

"Ugh! Touching!" He exclaims, using his handles to wriggle out of my grasp. He falls onto the mattress beside me with a nervous laugh. "Sorry about that, uh... I just don't like to be touched, y'know? Sorta awkward for me, if y'know what I mean." I give him a confused look. Since when was he so against being touched? Certainly not when he was bawling into my arms last night. I give him a sharp poke right in his blue eyes as a protest. "Ow! Why do you always jab me like that?" he asks angrily. "That's quite painful, y'know!" At this a tiny bit of guilt pricks at my insides.

_Sorry!_ I inwardly yelp, flinching. Wheatley's shutters, which are pulled close together in anger, suddenly retract, his gaze softening.

"It's alright. Just don't do it again, okay?" He turns away from me. "Scientists never touched me. Unless they had to do repairs, of course." he murmurs very softly. I shake my head and exhale, then get up and walk into the living room. Then I grab the laptop in my hands and walk back into the bedroom, plopping down on the bed next to Wheatley. Yet again, I open a blank document on Word and begin to type.

**You do understand I'm gonna have to carry you around, right? It's not like you can go anywhere without help.**

"Couldn't you just add a management rail or something?" Wheatley grumbles in reply.

**I've thought about it, but rescuing you from the moon was expensive. And I'm not too keen to do something nice for someone as _ungrateful_ as you.** I type bitterly, suddenly angry at how selfish he's being.

"Ungrateful? I'm- I'm not being ungrateful!" He stammers, not sounding very convincing. His shutters fly open and his optic shrinks, darting around the room. "I- I didn't mean... Mean... To be ungrateful." he stutters in a voice so quiet I can barely hear. Sympathy and guilt take hold of me again and I quickly delete what I've just said.

**I only want to help you.** I type again in a small font.

"Oh! I've got it!" He suddenly yelps, optic growing back to it's full blue state. "Why don't you just carry me around using your portal gun?" I sigh and shake my head "no".

**The portal gun's heavy and I don't want to lug it around. I want to keep it safe and locked away, and I don't want to use it unless I have to.**

"Fine, then." He barks, turning away again. I can't think of anything to say to him now. After a while of sitting in silence, he faces me again. "Look," he begins. "I don't _want_ to be angry with you, alright? I just need you to respect me mor- Oh, who am I kidding, I don't deserve respect... What am I thinking?" he trails off, spinning around and putting his back to me again, sounding humiliated and embarrassed. An awkward silence stretches out between us. I stand up to leave, grabbing the laptop. There's no reason to just sit here and make the situation more awkward. Just as I reach the door, I hear a sound from behind me. "Wait-" Wheatley croaks, voice cracking. I freeze, but don't turn to face him, still frustrated with the core. I wait for him to speak. "I- I just want you to know- I'm sorry." He barely chokes out the last two words as he breaks down into sobs. "I hurt you- More than I can even understand- And I let the power corrupt me- And I can't apologize enough- And I'm so-o-rry." Pity immediately stabs at my heart. He's so vulnerable- So easy to forgive. I can understand now that he didn't plan to betray me, he couldn't stop the corruption of the chassis. I walk back over and sit down next to him. "I made the most stupid decisions and- And maybe She was right- Maybe I _am_ a moron."

_You are _NOT _a moron. _I think, lifting the small metal sphere into my lap. I know it must be the hardest thing in the world for him to say that. I gently stroke the metal casing of the personality core, trying to calm him down, trying to get the message across that _it's alright._ After a good amount of this and me _sssh_ing him, he finally stops bawling. I sigh and bring him out into the living room, then set him beside the Space Core on the large couch. I put the laptop on the table, then lean back against the cushions, bringing Wheatley into my arms again. This time he doesn't resist, just buries his ocular into my shirt with a whisper of, "I'm sorry." I rest my hand on his side and sigh.

_I know, Wheatley. I know._

* * *

**At the part where Chell tells Wheatley he can't get around without help, I was going to have him snap back at her with "Well, you can't talk without help." I decided that would be too bitter of Wheatley and didn't put it in, though.**

**Hopefully I'll have Chapter 7 finished and posted next week. **

**I apologize if the chapters have been getting boring, but I do have a plotline planned out and stuff _is_ going to happen. The story's not going to be Wheatley just bawling all the time.**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying the story!**


	7. 7: Crocodile Tears

**I'm actually really surprised people like my story so much! Due to all the positive feedback, I'm definitely continuing this! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!**

**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I've been busy.**

* * *

croc·o·dile tears

_noun_

plural noun: **crocodile tears**

tears or expressions of sorrow that are insincere.

Origin

mid 16th century: said to be so named from a belief that crocodiles wept while devouring or luring their prey.

* * *

Chapter 7: Crocodile Tears

I cry again that night. Again, Chell clambers out of bed and grabs me. She brings me back into her bedroom and comforts me until I stop sobbing and go into sleep mode. this happens the next night, too. And the next night. And the next night. By the end of my first week back on earth she ends up dragging me to bed with her, though I don't like it one bit.

The sadness, the pain, the guilt I feel gets worse and worse each night. Every time I cry, a new crack forms in my heart. I spiral downward into depression with no way to pull myself out. It tears away at my very being, worse than any pain I've ever felt before, even when She crushed me. I can't take it anymore. I want to go into sleep mode forever and forget the pain. I want to _die._ I know dying will numb the pain of emotion, take it away forever. It would be bliss, so much better than my pathetic little life that consists only of hurt and suffering. I can't kill myself. I have no way of doing that. Chell is my only way out. I need her to kill me. But if she loves me, she probably won't do that. No, wait a second. If she really does love me, he'll kill me to put me out of my misery. Right?

So three weeks after I've arrived back on Earth, I decide to ask her.

She takes Space and I outside again to watch the sunset. It shines in brilliant hues of yellow and orange, filling the sky with a peachy color. It is a beautiful sunset, and hopefully the last one I'll ever see. Chell holds me in her lap. I turn to face her and mentally prepare myself for what I'm about to say, then begin.

"Chell... Would you... Could... C-c-could you kill me?" I ask stammering badly. She looks taken aback for a second, but firmly shakes her head "no".

"I-If you really cared about me, you would kill me. You would put me out of my misery." I say, making sure not to use the word "love" so she doesn't find out what I saw in her journal. She looks hurt by what I've said. She gets up, disappears into the house for a minute, then comes back out with a small notepad and pen. She sits down beside me.

**No, you're wrong. if I really cared about you, I wouldn't kill you. That's the wrong way out of your situation. If I really cared about you, I would help you get through it, help you ease the pain. So that's what I'm going to do. You don't KILL people you care about. **she writes.

I sniff, feeling the dreaded sobbing start again.

"B-but I _want_ to die!" I wail, not even trying to stop the crying. I stopped trying to prevent the tears at least a week ago. I've given up on that. "I-I want to die." I whimper. "K-kill me. Please." She shakes her head again. She won't kill me. It's hopeless. But I _have_ to do _something_. I can't deal with all this pain anymore.

When the sun sinks below the horizon, Chell brings the Space Core and I back inside the house. I ask her to leave me on the couch tonight. I need time to think. Surprisingly, she obliges. When Chell is in her room and Space is in sleep mode, I try to think of a way to avoid all this misery. But I can't think. The sadness takes up every ounce of my being, blotting out any thought except how much _this hurts_. In my desperation, a sense of self-pity suddenly stabs me, letting a bit a logical thought through.

_Why? _I think. _Why do I have to feel all this pain? How did it come to this? Where did it all begin? _I realize it all started when I woke Chell up that fateful day two year ago. I started with _her_. It did. Didn't she start everything? From the moment she woke up, she was the cause of my problems. Wasn't she? _Wasn't she? _The more I think about it, the more I begin to blame her, to realize that _it's her fault_. It really is. I only blamed myself before, but now I've opened my eye, realized who is _really_ to blame. _SHE did this! _I think.

It feels _good_ to be angry. It's strange that this emotion should make me feel any amount of pleasure at all, but it replaces the sadness. It makes me feel an emotion other than pain. It fills me to the brim driving out most of the depression. I want to scream at Chell. I want to just yell at her, to let it all out.

But for now I sit in a forced silence, my anger brewing, sizzling, plotting. It think of all the reasons my misery is her fault, all the things she's done to torture me. _I bet she doesn't even love me! I bet she _PLANTED_ that journal in the files for me to find, just to make me feel guilty! Just to get at me! I bet the whole thing is a fake! Smart people would lock their journals, or something._ I finished reading it up to the current day, and she says she still loves me. _She obviously _DOES NOT_, because if I know _anything_ about love, it's that you don't _hurt_ people you're in it with. She must hate me to some extreme, twisted degree to say that. She's more than brain damaged, she's insane!_ Oh, if only I had been smarter when I had all that power to throw around... If I was still in control, I'd smash her to bits with one of those mashy spike plates!

She's a **_MONSTER!_**

_A spiteful, vengeful, little..._ I struggle to hold in my rage. But then I have the perfect idea to exact my revenge. I can't hurt her physically anymore, but I can hurt her with words just as she's hurt me. Oh, she'll get what's coming to her, just not now. I slide closed my shutters and try to go into sleep mode.

_Tomorrow..._

* * *

I can tell Wheatley's changed a lot from the rambling little robot that first woke me up. He's a lot more quiet. He doesn't ramble as much. And he's much more serious. He shies away from me sometimes. And he cries. Far too often. I hate hearing him cry. It's a haunting, horrifying sound, not quite human, not quite robot. It sounds as if he's choking, as if he's in terrible physical pain instead of just emotional pain. I've seen a lot of both, so I know how sadness can hurt just as much as the worst physical pain you can imagine. I wish I knew why he felt this way. Seeing him suffering and not being able to do anything about it is like torture. His pain hurts me, too.

I wake with a yawn on Saturday morning. My sleep has been peaceful tonight, with neither a dream, nightmare, or Wheatley's tears to interrupt my rest. I heave myself out of bed, shaking the sleep off more quickly than usual. I feel reenergized as I walk into the living room. Space slides his shutters open as I enter, then shifts around until he's upright and in a comfortable position. He makes a long, drawn out yawning noise. It's strange to hear his voice sound so relaxed instead of it's usual quick, scratchy, tense tone. I guess now that he's finally fulfilled his dream of going to space, he can finally get on with his artificial life.

I stretch and glance at Wheatley, who is still in sleep mode. I expect he'll feel much better when he wakes up, since he's finally gone a night without breaking down in tears. I make myself breakfast, and as I finish and put my dishes away, he wakes up. His shutters slowly slide apart, but narrow when he sees me. His expression seems... Angry. But why would he be angry? I grab the laptop and plop down beside him on the couch, then open up a blank document.

**Good morning, Wheatley. You too, Space. Something wrong? You didn't get upest last night, I'd think you'd be happy.** I type. He stays silent.

I anxiously wait for him to say something, tapping my fingers together nervously.

**"IT'S ALL YOUR BLOODY FAULT!" **he suddenly yells with so much force and volume I jump. **"ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!** IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY I FEEL THIS WAY!... Guilty... Sad... Angry... How could you ever think I'd be happy? After-after all this?! And it's all-all because of YOU! Everything that happened-it-it was started by _YOU_, set off by _YOU_... ALL OF IT! **ALL OF IT!**"

_It's not my fault..._ I think, mind spinning at his sudden rage. iT SOUNDS as if he he's choking no two emotions, anger and sadness, trying, trying desperately to hide the hurt from me.

"YOU DID THIS! I-I-NEVER-I NEVER WANTED TO HURT ANYONE-BUT-BUT-YOU FORCED ME TO, DIDN'T YOU! DIDN'T YOU?!" Then he pauses and lets out a low laugh. His laugh is so calm all of a sudden that it scares me. But it's still a mocking laugh, not like the joyous laugh I love to hear, but like the laugh he taunted me with so many times before. He wears a sort of smug, satisfied expression, like he knows he's getting the best of me. And then he speaks again.

"We've had some times, haven't we? Like that time I jumped off my management rail, not sure if I'd die or not when I did, and all you had to do was catch me? Annnd you didn't. Did you? Oh, remember that? I remember that. I remember that all the time." A chill of dread and fear trickles down the back of my neck as he talks. He's repeating exactly what he said during our final battle.

_I tried..._ I think, shrinking back, every part of me feeling like it's folding in on me. Confusion, deja vu, and hurt are swirling inside me.

"And we could have talked our way out of it. Except you forgot to tell me that you'd murdered her. And that she needed you to live, so the only available vent for her rage would be good old crushable Wheatley. Yeah. Little details that I remember. Easy little tidbits you could have used to save me from getting crushed if you'd cared, which you didn't, obviously. And still do not."

_But I do care, Wheatley. Far more than you know. Far more than you'll ever understand..._ My mind is trying to defend itself, but I still feel hurt. My memory is replaying every moment of when he said these same words so long ago, flashing back and forth between the past and present. My thoughts are so confused I can't put them into words or even emotions, other than horror, shock, and bewilderment.

"Oh, remember the time I took over the facility? Greatest moment of my life, but you just wanted to leave. Didn't want to share in my success."

_But I did! I really did! I was so happy for you!_

"Well, so you know, I would be happy for you if you succeeded. Apart from right now, obviously."

Then he says the thing that stings the most, another one of those things I will never forget:

"AM I BEING TOO VAGUE?

I DESPISE YOU.

I LOATHE YOU.

YOU ARROGANT,

SMUGLY QUIET,

AWFUL

JUMPSUITED **MONSTER**

OF A WOMAN.

THE PLACE WOULD HAVE BEEN A TRIUMPH IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU!"

My heart breaks.

It shatters.

He hates me.

Why... How did I ever trust him? I... How did I expect anything different from him? He blames me for everything. He loathed me from the start and he won't ever change and it hurts and... And... I can't... Process... Anything... All I know is that he hates me and it hurts... It hurts more than anybody could ever, in a trillion years, put into words.

The tears come faster and fiercer than I ever thought possible, blurring my vision. All I can feel is pain. Pure pain. Blindly, I run into my room, slamming the door behind me. I jump onto my bed, bury my face in the pillow,, and sob, trying to be strong and hold back the tears. But they continue to come pouring down my face. I sound like I'm choking, pathetic and helpless. I want to pretend this isn't happening. Had his apology and acceptance all been an act? Was it all fake? Probably. He just wants to hurt me anyway he can. Even now, when he is physically vulnerable and helpless, he hurts me more than he ever could when he was in charge of everything. He has so much power over me and my emotions.

Maybe he _is _still in control.

It'a a terrifying thought. I know I can't let him push me around anymore. But he does. He is.

He must know that I can still hear him through the closed door, because he goes back to angrily yelling at me, cruelly referencing things he said in his our last battle as much as he can.

"You don't listen, do you? Quiet. All the time. Quietly not listening to a word I say. Judging me. Silently. The worst kind. All I wanted to do was make everything better for me! All you had to do was to solve a couple of hundred simple tests for a few years. And you couldn't even let me have that, could you?" His voice is choked and paranoid, exactly how it sounded the first time.

"Space?" I hear Space inquire, fear in his quiet voice.

**"NOBODY IS GOING TO SPACE, MATE!"** Wheatley screams violently as Space lets out a scared whine. He continues yelling at me.

"And another thing! You never caught me. I told you I could die falling off that rail. And you didn't catch me. You didn't even try."

_I did try. I really did. But it was so sudden, you didn't give me enough time... I'm sorry..._

"Oh, it's all becoming clear to me now. Figure out some clever plan to get your revenge on little old Wheatley. Go get him from the moon and bring that nasty little Space Core to pester him."

At this, Space gives another sad whine. Wheatley ignores him and continues.

"Leave some fake diary for him to find so he'll feel emotionally hurt."

_Wait, what? Fake diary? Could he... Could have found my journal?_

"And then, when he's depressed to the point of suicide, you won't kill him? Won't put him out of his misery? Won't you? You've been planning this, haven't you? You've been playing me the whole time! You have been! First, you pretend like you're so happy to see me. Then you convince me you forgive me, when you're really just plotting your revenge! Then, _then_, when I get connected to the computer, you _conveniently_ decide to write in your little fake journal how much you love me. Just when my self-esteem is at it's lowest."

lowly, my numb mind begins to process what he's saying. He's-he's found my journal. And now he knows the truth about how I feel. _How could I have been so stupid? Why didn't I put a lock on it or something?_ But he's convinced it's all some grand scheme to get revenge on him. He's got everything wrong...

"I'll bet you never even loved me, did you? I'll bet all that deep stuff in the journal was fake. I'll bet the whole thing was made up, wasn't it? It's just cleverly used words and adjectives, I'll bet that's all it is. And all those tears that you keep crying?" His voice turns suddenly doubtful. "Probably actual tears, I bet. Those looked real." But he only shows that little moment of weakness before regaining his confidence. "But it doesn't signify anything, is my point. But the real point is-oh, oh! You know what I just remembered? Crocodile tears! Crocodiles crying as they violently murder their prey. Cruel, obviously. That's what you're doing. Metaphor."

_Crocodile tears?_ I think, face and pillow soaking wet from my tears. _Does he really see me like that? Does he really think I'm that evil?_ The realization of his hatred for me hits me again, disbelief having suspended it before. I can feel myself breaking. It almost feels as if there's physical pain, a sort of knot inside my chest.

"You've ruined my life! I've been blaming myself all along, when it was really you the whole time! Manipulating me, not caring whether the little metal ball gets hurt or not. No, he's just a robot, he doesn't matter, does he? You really are a monster."

The word echoes in my head over and over, biting painfully into my heart. _Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._ A fresh wave of tears spills down my cheeks. I can't be vilified like this anymore, it's too painful. But I have no strength left in me. I try to tune out his ranting, but somehow it only becomes more clear to my ears.

"Why wasn't I smarter? Why didn't I come up with a better plan to kill you?"

This has to stop. I begin to lift myself up off the bed, but the crying has physically worn me out, and I shake every time a new sob racks my body. I crumple weakly back down.

"You're evil. That's what you are. Evil."

I try again, and this time manage to slow my sobbing enough to to get out of bed. Not really knowing what I'm doing, I grab a thick navy blue blanket off the bed and stumble out into the living room, tripping over it pathetically as I dance dizzily toward Wheatley, teardrops blurring my sight. But I can tell his expression is one of anger, hatred, and rage.

"So you've come out to face me, eh? What're you gonna do? Doesn't matter! You can't hurt me anymore, luv! I know all your tricks. I know it's all in the name of revenge. Heh, luv. What a silly name. I don't _love_ you. I hate you! Oh, just the thought of it- Heh -I should've known from the beginning- ridiculous, it is. I mean, really, love after all we've been through? Murder, vengeance, hatred- You must be really sick and twisted. You're even more brain damaged than I originally thought! Yeah, brain damaged like a fox."

As he's talking, the beginnings of an idea and starting to form in my mind. I suddenly pounce on him, wrapping the blanket around him.

"What are yo- Oi, oi, get off me! Get off me!" His protests are muffled by the blanket, which I quickly tie in a knot around him, hands still shaking.

"Are you gonna try to kill me? Well, I'll die knowing the truth, that you're a terrible, vengeance-driven murderer. Monstrous."

I glance briefly up at the window, which is dotted with clinging raindrops. They streak down the window like the tears down my face. _Rain. _I run to the closet in the hallway and grab a large Fleet Farm bag from the top shelf, where I keep all my plastic bags. I go back to Wheatley and slide the plastic bag over the blanket, then knot it firmly at the top, teardrops still gently flowing.

"Monstrous."

I grab some socks from my room and pull them on along with my tennis shoes, then shrug on a windbreaker over the baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt I wore to bed.

"You are really, truly monstrous."

It's quite hard to understand him now that his voice is muffled by two layers, but if I listen I can still decipher what he's saying. I lock up the house, drop the key into my pocket, and step outside with the captive Wheatley slung over my shoulder, closing the door behind me. I take a deep breath and turn to face the pittering-pattering rain, which I'm briefly sheltered from by the overhang above. I look out at the glistening, slick, wet, black road for a second before finally taking the first step out from under the overhang.

I've got to get rid of Wheatley.


	8. 8: Rain

**This story centers around Chell and Wheatley, so I'm not going to include the OCs in any major ways. But they will play a part in some sections of the story, including this chapter, where we'll get a first glimpse of the woman who helped Chell after her escape.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Rain

I break into a run, my feet thudding against the black concrete of the rain-soaked road. I try to ignore the muffled, angry yelling of the personality core I have slung over my right shoulder. The wind whips off my hood every time I put it back up, so I leave it down. My snarled, tangled hair flies out behind me as I run, quickly getting soaked in the pouring rain and settling into wet clumps that painfully lash at my face. I splash through a puddle, not even bothering to around it. Raindrops pour down my face, mixing with my tears.

The world is crying with me.

I want to keep running, but every block or so I have to slow to a walk and catch my breath. When I run, the noise of my footsteps, heavy breathing, the pounding of the rain, and the occasional roar of a car passing by (its passengers giving me odd looks) are enough to drown out the sound of Wheatley's confused, hate-filled ranting. But as I start to slow down, I find I can hear him again.

"Oi, lady, where are we going? Can you- can you just tell me where we're going? I mean, I know you're a pretty twisted person- insane, actually- But I'd think you'd at least have the common decency to tell me our destination. Really. Slip me a note, or something."

His muffled voice is nearly impossible to understand, but somehow my mind manages to latch on to his words. Again, I recognize his speech patterns from back in the facility, vaguely hinting at times I'd rather forget.

"And what's all that pounding? Sounds like raindrops, if you ask me. But you wouldn't. Because as I said before, you are sick and twisted. Oh- that means we're outside, doesn't it? Outside in the rain. You're gonna try to short me out out, aren't you? Just like when you washed all that space stuff off me. I bet you were trying to kill me then, too! You tricked me! I thought you were actually doing something nice for me, but no, turns out you were trying to _murder_ me!"

He rants on and on, but I pick up my pace again and he fades into the background noise. As I sprint along the side of the road , the bag he's in bumps painfully and repeatedly against my back, but I have to force myself to ignore the pain and continue running. Only a few more blocks now... I feel myself fall into a sort of twisted rhythm. The thump of my feet against the ground. A sharp pain in my back as the bag makes contact. A small breath in.

Thud, _jab_, thud, breath.

Thud, _jab_, thud, breath.

Thud, _jab_, thud, breath.

I focus on the strange, agonizing rhythm, not wanting to think about anything else. It's the only thing I can focus on other than the terrible reality, and I don't want to focus on that.

Why would Wheatley do this? Now I know for certain I can't trust him. I shouldn't trust anyone. But what about Wanda? I have to put my trust in her for this odd plan to work. I have no other choice.

I can barely breathe, and when my breaths come they are quick and shallow. I don't stop. I _can't_ stop, _can't_ hear Wheatley's enraged voice yelling terrible things about me. But then I reach my destination and I know I'll have to stop. I run up the driveway of the off-white house, which is shrouded in mist and fog. I take a sharp turn onto the sidewalk and bound up two small, concrete steps to the door. I immediately push down on the doorbell button, then stand back, hoping my heavy breathing will drown out Wheatley. The door opens slowly with a creaking sound, revealing a woman. She's just a little bit short, but not very. She's got a little bit of weight on her, but barely more than average. If someone would guess her age, they would probably guess around 45 or so, for she has a slightly worn, aged look about her. But I know she's really 42. Her short, straight, black hair slightly sways as the door swings open and she blinks her ice blue eyes at me once in confusion, looking me over. This is Wanda, the woman who I owe at least part of my life to.

But before anyone can do anything, Wheatley interrupts.

"If I was a smelly human like you, this could very well be called a case of kidnapping, you know that? Probably go to jail. Or prison. Or something."

Wanda's eyes widen in shock and confusion.

"Chell? Wha-" she begins, but I put my hand over her mouth before she can say another word. Then I put my finger over my mouth. This whole jumbled-up plan depends on her being quiet. But she silently nods, and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Good. She trusts me. She knows I know what I'm doing. I hope. _Thank you, Wanda._ I think. I turn and walk toward her backyard, Wheatley still rambling. Wanda follows me after slipping on some shoes, her eyes wide with worry. And puzzlement.

"You've got no right to do this! But it's all part of your master plan, I suppose. How long is this going to take, exactly? We've been moving at least fifteen minutes now..." I hear Wheatley protest, his voice trailing off to a quiet mumble. "Ahhmosh furgoot ter ber angrr... Veerd..." I can't understand him, but then he starts yelling loud and clear again. "YOU'RE TERRIBLE! YOU'RE HORRIBLE! I mean, honestly! I apologized to you with 100% sincerity, and all you do is try to kill me! KILL ME, FOR GOD'S SAKE! YOU NEVER DESERVED THAT APOLOGY, AND YOU NEVER WILL! I TAKE IT ALL BACK! EVERY TIME I TOLD YOU I WAS SORRY, I TAKE IT ALL BACK! **I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!** AND I HOPE YOU DIE I THE MOST PAINFUL WAY IMAGINABLE! No quick, painless death, no, not for you. Nothing so dignified. You have no dignity. AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! YOU'RE NOT EVEN GUILTY! **YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS!**"

I'm not enjoying this. It hurts me more than the little core could ever imagine. I run to the single tree in Wanda's backyard, dropping the bag containing the personality sphere next to the trunk.

"GAH! Hey! What was that for? Oh, wait? **YOU DON'T CARE!**"

His words sting, but I push them to the back of my mind and focus on the full-grown tree before me. I try to get a grip with my hands and feet, but they slip on the wet bark. I blink to clear the wetness from my eyes, but more tears of frustration only come. With a strong leap, I latch onto the lowest branch and pull myself up, scraping my knee along the rough bark in the process. I ignore the cuts I can feel through my baggy pants and lift myself into the little space where the thick trunk turns into branches. I don't allow myself to stop and catch my breath, immediately gesturing for Wanda to hand me up the bag. She does, the same astonished expression still on her face. I carefully set bag in the small dip in the trunk, in a place where it won't fall out of the tree. Then I jump back down to the ground. As I land, a brief, stinging shock passes through me, stunning me for a second. I sometimes forget I'm not always wearing the long fall boots anymore. I weakly point to the house, and Wanda begins to lead me inside. I glance back, just a quick look, just a glance thrown over my shoulder, just to see the bright orange bag at the corner of my vision. I'm relieved to realize I can't hear Wheatley anymore. I force myself to be semi-polite and take off my shoes before running into the living room and collapsing, cold, wet, shocked, confused, and hurt on a small brown couch. Curled up in an exhausted, shivering ball, I finally allow myself to catch my breath.

"Chell?" I hear a gentle voice ask. I know it's Wanda, but I turn away, putting my palm toward her, unable to face her just yet. I hear a small thunk and turn to see her set a small black laptop on the end table next to the couch I'm on. The screen is white except for the little blinking line that waits for me to type something. "Okay. When you're ready." Wanda sighs. I hear stairs creak as she goes down a level and comes back with a clean, green, soft, dry towel, which I quickly and gratefully wrap around myself. I try to settle down, try to think logically, asses the situation, but my mind is still whirling and I can't think at all. I really don't know what to do...

So I tell her everything.

Everything.

From beginning to end.

I tell her everything I've never told her before. I tell her about the cryptic messages and poems I found scrawled on the walls throughout the facility. I tell her about the Companion Cube. I tell her about GLaDOS, about how I killed her. I tell her how I woke up after being in cyrosleep for 999999. I tell her about Wheatley, and how I had fallen in love with the adorable little personality core. How he betrayed me, broke my heart, and put the almighty GLaDOS into a potato battery. I tell her about the fall, Caroline, and Cave Johnson. I tell her about Wheatley's tests and the final battle. I tell her about the moon. And then I tell her about how I brought him back, and how he turned on me this morning. By the time I finish typing I've taken off my raincoat and my hair is completely dry. Wanda gives me a blank stare, barely blinking, trying to absorb everything I've typed. But I can see in her expression that she believes and understands me. There are a few thoughtful, silent minutes.

"What does he look like?" Wanda suddenly asks.

**Why? What to you mean?** I respond through the computer.

"What does he look like?" she repeats.

**I can't really describe him...** I type, large teardrops rolling down my face. Wanda offers a notepad, pen, and a small box of colored pencils. I feel like a child coloring a picture, but I begin to draw. I draw the little robot as best I can, with his bottom shutter pulled up in a happy "smile", blue ocular shining. But my tears drip onto the drawing, making the ink run and the picture take on a dark, lonely feel. I push the sketch over to Wanda and she vaguely nods.

"I'm sure I'll understand when you take him out of the bag." she mutters.

I'm not sure how soon that will be.

**Actually... Would you mind babysitting?** I type. **I'm really sorry for just barging in like this, but I need to be away from him for a while.**

Again, I wonder if I can trust Wanda. Again, I know I have to.

"Alright." Wanda agrees with a slight sigh.

**Thank you. Just keep him in your tree. Don't talk to him, don't let him know anything. He needs to be punished.**

I turn away from her and bury my face in a couch cushion, trying not to show her any more of my tears. I try to think, try to remember what Wheatley said, try to figure out what happened.

"Leave some fake diary for him to find so he'll feel emotionally hurt."

"Then, _then_, when I get connected to the computer, you _conveniently_ decide to write in your little fake journal how much you love me."

These particular quotes stick out. I try to think of the other times he mentioned something about the journal.

"I'll bet you never even loved me, did you? I'll bet all that deep stuff in the journal was fake. I'll bet the whole thing was made up, wasn't it? It's just cleverly used words and adjectives, I'll bet that's all it is."

So Wheatley found my journal. He read it. He knows how I feel about him. But he thinks that it's all fake. It hurts him.

But why?

I'd think he'd be happy! After all, hadn't forgiveness been the only thing he'd wanted? Now he should know I definitely forgive him.

"How could you ever think I'd be happy? After-after all this?!"

But I was wrong before, and now, instead of being glad, he was sad. His emotions made no sense.

All those tearful, stuttered apologies... Was he still guilty? It's been two years, and he's finally reconciled with me. He should me moving on, not feeling guilty.

"YOU'RE THE REASON WHY I FEEL THIS WAY!... Guilty... Sad... Angry... "

That was one of the first things he'd yelled at me this morning. Okay, he was depressed because he was guilty. But if he was guilty, why would he do what he did? His metaphorical mind must have come up with this crazy idea that I was out to get him, connecting all the wrong dots. I never meant to reveal my feelings to him, let alone _hurt_ him...

I state what I've figured out in my head again, just to clarify it.

_He found my journal and read it, discovering my feelings. He felt depressed because of the guilt, the wrongly "realized" I was trying to torture him._

It's not much, but it's all I can believe right now. So I'm going to leave him in the tree, scared and alone, until he realizes what he's done.

_Is he going to do this again and again? I put my trust in him, but he always hurts me. And I always come crawling back to him because I care for him so much. He's my weakness._ I think. Then I realize something. _This is the same as the facility, just on a smaller scale. First, he betrays me this morning by saying he hates me. And now I've trapped him alone and helpless, just like in space. _

_Is this just going to keep happening over and over again?_


End file.
